


Making A Splash!

by roe87



Series: Splash! Baywatch au [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Avengers as Lifeguards, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Baywatch AU, Beach Volleyball, Beaches, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, Language Barrier, Learning to Human, Lifeguard Steve, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mermaids au, Merman Bucky, Mute Bucky Barnes, Nonverbal Communication, Ocean, Past Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Bucky Barnes, Shameless Smut, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Splash! au, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 63,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve Rogers was eleven years old, he fell from a boat into deep ocean water. What saved him was another boy in the water; he saved Steve with a kiss.</p><p>Steve couldn't even be sure the boy was real, because he disappeared right after Steve's rescue, leaving Steve to pursue a meandering life on land, until he finally settled back at the beach as a county lifeguard.</p><p>When Steve falls into deep water again as an adult, his mysterious guardian from the water reappears, and this time he's sticking around.</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p>Avengers as Baywatch lifeguards.</p><p>Bucky as a merman.</p><p>Splash! stucky au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This happened. 
> 
>  
> 
> For your enjoyment, the opening and closing credits of one of the greatest shows on earth, [Baywatch](https://youtu.be/mu1WQMC5bp0). Don't you think David Charvet has a Seb Stan look to him??? :p
> 
>  
> 
> ~*~ Dedicated to my pal, V! ~*~
> 
> Thanks for being awesome, and also for listening to me go on and on about Baywatch lately! You rule!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Edit: The amazingly talented [Ilyone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyone/pseuds/Ilyone) has done beautiful fan art inspired by this chapter, when Merboy!Bucky rescues young Steve. Please show them some love on [Ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8157268), and [Tumblr](http://ilyone.tumblr.com). Thank you, Ilyone!
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: heads up for a bit of reckless swimming from Steeb, falling into water and needing assistance.

 

 

_Eighteen years ago_

 

When Steve was eleven years old, his mom had taken him on a boat ride off Catalina Island, on the Californian coast. It'd been kind of a present because Steve had missed so much school, being a sickly, frail kid growing up. He was doing better, he just wasn't all the way there yet.

Steve had hung out at the bough of the small ferry, avoiding other holiday-goers and sketching the small islands on the horizon as they passed. His mom was chatting to another single parent, so she let Steve be.

Too long under the sun had made him feel light headed, but just as he was about to seek the shade, he saw a flash and a shadow in the water underneath him. Maybe it was a dolphin; there'd been sightings of them earlier off in the distance. Steve leaned between the railings to peer down... and that's when he fainted. He tumbled overboard, sketchbook too, with a small sploosh.

Steve wasn't sure that what happened next wasn't simply a delirious dream, a hallucination. 

All Steve remembered, vividly, was coming to with a pair of warm lips on his, and strong arms holding him. Steve opened his eyes, instinctively went to push at whoever was kissing him –and even in his panic, Steve knew it was _a_ _boy_ , and how that sent a thrill through him– but the boy hung on, holding Steve still. He was impossibly strong, Steve realised, so there was no point struggling.

Steve stilled, blinked in the water as the bubbles cleared. He saw was another face up close, and felt smooth skin touching his as air was blown steadily into his mouth. Steve blinked again.

The boy was giving him air, Steve realised. Then the boy pulled back to look at Steve, shoulder length brown hair lifting and floating with the current. Steve held his breath, tried not to breathe in with shock; this boy was beautiful. Pale, iridescent skin, dark brown hair, a perfect face with plump pink lips, and blue-grey eyes that shone at him.

The boy smiled. He was still holding Steve, holding them underwater like the current wasn't pulling at all, and they simply floated. Steve felt anchored, safe. The boy moved one hand up to Steve's face, gently touched his fingers to Steve's cheek, then traced the line of his jaw. His eyes followed the movement, studying Steve's face, before looking back up and smiling again.

Steve had never felt so very  _seen_ by another person. It made him shiver, his hands gripped tight to the boy's very strong and defined arms. He was perfect, clearly athletic, and maybe older. The most beautiful person Steve had ever seen.

Some perfect fantasy created by Steve's oxygen starved brain, his therapists would later dismiss. Steve couldn't remember much more than that anyway, not for certain. He was sure that the boy kissed him again, passing air through his mouth and into Steve's weak lungs.

Steve wasn't sure how it happened but he was moved through the water, back toward the boat and the drop down steel ladder that was attached to its side. Steve found himself breaking the surface, sucking in sweet fresh air, his arms already looped around the ladder's rungs. The boy pulled away, and even in his delirious state Steve knew he wouldn't see him again.

The shadow of a large tail was all Steve saw, and he hoped it was a dolphin, not something else chasing the boy. Someone on deck noticed Steve clinging to the ladder, and called for help.

They fished Steve up into the boat, gave him an oxygen mask. “Did you see him?” Steve gasped at his mother between breaths.

“Who, Steve?” she sobbed with relief, wiping her eyes.

“The boy in the water...” Steve tried to explain. Maybe the boy was a diver? Maybe he was lost?

His mom alerted the crew and they put out a search, even called in the Coastguard with scuba divers, but no other boy was found that day. They said it must've been a hallucination, and even though Steve was at first so sure, as the years passed by he figured maybe they were right after all.

There was no mysterious boy in the water who had saved his life.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Present day_

 

“Steve,” Sam said, “we got trouble coming.”

Steve lowered his binoculars and looked across the rescue boat to his friend and colleague, Sam Wilson.

Sam was looking into his binoculars calmly, the corner of his lips inching into a smile.

“Don't tell me Stark's here,” Steve replied, going back to search the horizon.

“Yup,” Sam said. “Yacht just came into view.”

“His timing is terrible,” Steve muttered, mostly to himself.

Sam started laughing. “Steve, man. If you don't want to go to the guy's incredible party on his luxury yacht, all you gotta do is say.”

“Natasha wants me to go,” Steve said. “She's determined for me to have what she considers a normal social life. Like yacht parties are normal.”

“They are for Malibu.” Sam shook his head. “Maybe you shouldn't write it off before you've even been. You never know, you may even have some fun.”

“It's not that, Sam. Stark's offshore parties are notorious, none of the guards will resist, and they'll all have hangovers for the entire week Stark is here, on summer break when the beaches are crowded and they need to pay full attention to their jobs.”

“Wow,” Sam said.

Steve lowered his binoculars to look at Sam again, who was giving him a look right back.

“Someone needs a vacation.”

Steve raised a brow. “A vacation from you.”

Sam snorted, not taking Steve's sass seriously. “Or you need to get laid, man.”

Steve turned away. He was done with this conversation. “I'm calling base.” He went over to the radio. “Wherever those reef divers went, they're long gone now.”

“Okay,” Sam said, then lowered his voice to sing-song, “they're probably on Tony's yacht.”

Steve ignored him, picking up the radio. “KMF two-nine-five. HQ, this is Scarab one, do you copy? Over.”

“Ten-one, Scarab,” Phil Coulson's voice crackled over the radio. “Any news for us? Over.”

“That is a negative,” Steve said, “no sign of any boat matching the description given. No divers either. Do you want us to keep searching the area? Over.”

“Negative, Scarab. I'll notify Coastguard from here. Come back to base. Over.”

“Roger that,” Steve said, about to put the radio back. It crackled to life again.

“Oh, and enjoy Stark's party,” Coulson said.

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line and frowned in the general direction of Stark's luxury yacht, much to Sam's amusement.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It wasn't that Steve disliked Tony Stark. Yes, the guy was a royal pain in the ass, but he had a good heart, and Steve could deal. His business partner and fiancée, Pepper, was really nice.

Natasha had known Pepper, while Steve had known Stark's father, Howard, back when Howard was teaching marine biology at Steve's university, so they had ended up knowing Tony.

Tony, an only child much like Steve himself. Both of them had studied marine biology, but the similarities ended there. While people like Tony Stark studied science, invented ground breaking marine technology before the age of twenty and generally made a name for themselves... Steve had lost focus on his studies, dropped out of marine biology and joined the army and marine corps instead. Only to come back state-side even more disillusioned than his Uni days, move out to California, get his sports and waterside qualifications, then join the L.A. County Lifeguards.

Only then did Steve start to feel any semblance of peace come to him, being close to the ocean every day. He could do good work out here, help people, watch out for them.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the strange pull Steve felt from the ocean, especially late at night, when he'd remember that boat ride in Catalina. Steve would be lying to himself if he didn't admit he hoped to catch a glimpse of _someone_ in the water, that diver again, every day he was near water. But who was he kidding. It'd just been the hallucination of a panicked and very lonely young boy. Anyone he'd ever told had said so, and Steve didn't talk about it any more. He didn't see any therapists either. He'd had about all he could stand of other people telling him what to do and what to think.

“What's eating you?” Natasha side-eyed him.

Steve was sitting up front with her as she drove them to the marina.

“What? Nothing.”

“You were a million miles away, Rogers.”

Steve didn't try to fake a smile. “Just tired,” he said honestly. He never slept great, but she didn't need to know that.

“He needs to get laid,” Sam offered from the back.

Steve rolled his eyes, while Natasha smiled. “You do need to loosen up, Steve.”

“I'm plenty loose,” he told her. “Let's see you let your hair down, Romanov.”

This earned him a challenging glance. “Do shots with me later. We'll see who cuts loose.”

“Oh, man, you are toast.” Sam laughed at him.

 

Stark's yacht party had wait staff. Actual black tie wait staff, breezing back and forth with trays of canapés and flutes of bubbly champagne for the guests.

Steve wasn't really one for champagne. He hung back with Sam and Rhodey for as long as possible, sipping on a cold beer while they got caught up.

The music was loud. There were lots of people Steve didn't know, and only a few he did. Clint was off doing some drinking game with Thor. Scott, Wanda and Pietro were dancing on the make-shift dance-floor, fairy lights and lanterns hanging overhead.

Steve wasn't sure where Natasha had gone.

Tony was making the rounds at regular intervals, with Pepper at his side and generally being a lot more polite to the guests than Tony was when he mixed with alcohol. He'd already accosted Steve earlier, starting off pleasant and charming, then making some barbed comment about Steve's career choice. That was, before Pepper swooped in with damage control, saying how nice it was to see Steve again.

Steve had told her he was very happy for them both and asked about the upcoming wedding. Privately, he hoped for her sake that Tony was easier to get along with in private than he was in public.

They certainly seemed fond of each other, Steve thought, watching them share a glass of champagne across the room, gazing into each other's eyes.

“Apparently there's a rec room,” Sam said, nudging Steve out of his thoughts. “We gonna go check it out. You coming?”

“Rec room?” Steve was interested. A quiet game of pool would be good about now.

“Video games,” Rhodey said. “Although Tony also has some vintage pinball machines too. Which no one's allowed to touch, except him.”

“Uh... it's okay, I'll come find you later,” Steve said. He wasn't in the mood for video games in what would no doubt be another loud room. “I'll hang out here for a bit.”

“Okay, dude.” Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Don't be too long, unless you get lucky of course.” He did an over-exaggerated wink.

“Sure, Sam.”

Steve hung back on his own, nursing his beer. He leant against the wall, edging along a few steps every minute or so, trying to find a quieter spot where the bass wasn't quite so rattling to his ears. Surely this was above regulated noise level, Steve thought, even for offshore.

He watched the dance floor. He sipped his beer. He glanced at a table nearby which boasted freshly made cocktails and its own bartender. Maybe he'd have a cocktail.

Natasha appeared out of the crowd, sliding in beside him. “Hey, Steve.”

“Oh, hey, Nat.”

“So how are things?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

Steve gave her a look. “Yes, things are just fine.”

“Having fun?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve quipped.

She smirked. “I thought so. C'mon, let's get a cocktail. You can have an Old Fashioned.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve let her lead him to the table, where they ordered from the bartender and watched their drinks being made. Steve relented, and had an Old Fashioned. He made sure to order a Moscow Mule for her, though.

“Cheers, Rogers.” Natasha held up her drink to him with a smile.

“Cheers to you, too.” Steve carefully clinked his glass to hers and took a sip. “Wow, this is certainly stronger than beer,” he exclaimed at the liquor.

“When was the last time you actually partied?” Natasha asked.

“ _Actually_ partied?” Steve laughed a little. “Hell if I know. But I have been a bit busy, Nat.”

“Too busy for dates too, I suppose?”

Steve looked away awkwardly. “Well, not always...”

“That's what you told the cute surfer I tried to hook you up with last month,” she reminded him.

“He wasn't exactly my type, Natasha.”

“Tell me about your type, Rogers.”

Steve didn't feel like having this conversation again. “Can we talk about something else?” he pleaded.

Natasha sipped her drink, watching him over the rim of her glass. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I dunno.” Steve cast about for a topic, sighed. “How about anything but my personal life?”

“You got it.” A beat passed, then she said, “I hear Thor is single now.”

“Natasha.”

“What?” She smiled. “Not into blonds?”

“Quit it.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “We won't talk about your love-life, we can do shots instead.”

“Deal.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve stepped out into the night. Most of the other revellers were below deck, the music pumping out from below. Steve wandered over the deck, leaned on the railing and gazed up at the stars.

He was getting a headache. Maybe he should call it a night, order in one of the hired speed boats Tony kept on call, with his own staff no less.

How many staff did Tony have? Some were temps, Steve knew that. He wasn't jealous of Tony's wealth, no. Steve loved his job as a lifeguard, he did. But... he was a bit jealous of Tony, or of anyone who'd found their special someone.

Since his mom had passed away five years ago, Steve had felt even more alone. With no other family to speak of, and his army days long behind him, Steve only had his friends. On nights where he was surrounded by happy couples or single people just looking for a hook up, Steve felt a little awkward.

Okay, a lot awkward.

“Never do shots with Romanov,” Steve said to himself, looking down at the water. He always ended up feeling morose with alcohol. The water was dark and still, reflecting the light of the moon and stars. Steve wished he were sitting on the beach instead, by himself. He wasn't one for parties, what was he even doing here?

It'd be ridiculous for him to request a speedboat all to himself at this late hour. He didn't want the fuss, his drunk brain supplied. He didn't want Natasha or Tony or anyone else to know that he wanted to go home early. He just wanted to be back on the beach, or in his own bed...

Before he registered what he was doing, Steve had vaulted the rail.

He could swim back to shore! They were only a mile or so out, Steve could swim it easily. He covered his ears as he plunged into the water feet first, his body giving over to muscle memory as he began to swim.

The water was so much colder than he'd been expecting, and it was strange swimming in the dark. Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea after all.

As he pushed through the water, his wet clothes feeling heavy, Steve grew tired and almost nodded off a couple times. He floundered over direction, too drunk to keep a track of where he was, and too tired to care if the current pulled him out to sea.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve woke blearily, with a splitting headache, and still damp and salty from the ocean. He was on a beach of golden sand, the sun blazing down on him.

For a moment Steve assumed he'd made it back to Venice beach like he'd planned, except when he squinted against the sun and looked around, he saw the beach was deserted.

Steve gazed in bewilderment at the unfamiliar surroundings; sand and rocks, still cradling water from the tide.

One of the small islands, had to be. Steve had patrolled the waters countless times as a lifeguard, he could surely get his bearings.

Steve sat up, holding his head. He could do with some Advil, a coffee, and about a gallon of water. He was so thirsty.

He quietly vowed never to drink with a Russian again as long as he lived. Especially on a yacht, of all places.

Steve patted his pockets. Well, his wallet was gone. That was just great. His cell phone was still in his pocket. Steve opened his phone up piece by piece, and laid its parts out carefully on his thigh, hoping to dry it out in the sun.

He sat there quietly, not feeling any particular worry about getting back. Either he'd find a way or they'd notice he was gone and send a boat out for him. It was only a matter of time, and he couldn't be that far out. It wasn't like he was about to star in his own version of _Castaway_.

All Steve was doing right now was wasting his day off, but then he _had_ wanted to be on his own.

Here he was, on his own...

With a hangover.

Before Steve could piece his phone back together, he heard the engine of a speedboat. He stood up and walked to the water, ready to flag it down. It was one of the lifeguard Scarabs, a rescue boat, and they spotted him. Steve waved, relieved to see Sam and Clint as the boat approached.

“Jeez, Rogers,” Sam greeted him as Steve waded out into the water. “Give a brother a heart attack.” They helped haul him aboard.

“Yeah, how'd you get out here?” Clint asked, checking him over.

Steve waved him off. “I'm fine. Sorry if I worried you.”

Sam handed Steve a bottle of water. “We had no idea you'd even left, or when. You some sort of ninja when you're seeing someone, huh?”

Steve chugged the water, then frowned at Sam. “What?”

Clint was looking at Steve dubiously, like he didn't believe him. “Uh huh. So where's your secret man now, Steve? Does he need a ride back to Malibu or what?”

Steve echoed, “What?”

Sam gestured at the small island they'd collected Steve from. “We can't see him here, he must still be in the water. He diving or some shit? Keeps disappearing.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve didn't understand. Was another of Tony's guests around? “I haven't seen anyone.”

“So who was the guy that led us to you?” Clint asked. “He was in the water, waved us down and kept disappearing then popping back up. Led us straight to you.”

“We should haul his ass in too,” Sam said. “Dude shouldn't be out here on his own like that.”

Steve's heart thudded. “What-- What did he look like?”

Sam and Clint exchanged a look. “It was definitely a dude,” Sam said.

“Dark hair,” Clint said, “but he kept his distance. We couldn't get close enough to dive for him.”

“So you don't know who he is?” Sam studied Steve carefully, but Steve had already checked out. All Steve saw in his mind's eye was that perfect face from so long ago. Dark brown hair. Pale blue-grey eyes.

“Oh, God,” he gasped, rushing to the side of the boat, but both Clint and Sam stopped him from going over. “We have to find him!” Steve was frantic, searching the water with his eyes. “Please! Find him!”

“Steve, hey, Steve.” Sam had hands on his shoulders, talking calmly. “It's okay, Steve, we've already radioed for back up. We'll widen the search, get the scuba gear, and find your friend.”

“You don't understand,” Steve said, admitting defeat and slumping down. “I have to find him.”

“Steve, you're dehydrated, okay? You can't swim right now.”

“Okay,” Steve mumbled, head in his hands. He was far from okay. Could it be? Was someone –that boy, the diver– really out there right now? Did he really exist?

Steve felt sick, too much sun and not enough water.

“We'll find him, Steve,” Sam promised.

 

~ ~ ~

 

They didn't find anybody else in the water. But Steve had already known that'd be the case. It was like Catalina all over again. All he'd ended up doing was worrying his friends and somehow made them think he was seeing some mystery man. Steve kept waiting for one of them to tell him there _was_ no mystery swimmer, no guys hanging out in the sea saving his life.

Steve'd had the rest of his day off at home, trying to sleep. When he couldn't do that, he tried distracting himself with chores or studying his lieutenant manual. When those didn't work either, he took out the most recent scrapbook he'd made of underwater photography and surf scenes, just soothing pictures he tended to hoard and keep in notebooks. Sometimes he tried to sketch from them, but often he lost patience before he could properly finish anything.

Story of his life.

Steve picked at his dinner, then took himself for a walk down to the beach as the sun set. He avoided the lifeguard towers set all along the beach, waiting for the crowds to leave and the guards to lock up and head back to base before taking off his shoes and going down to the shoreline.

Steve paddled through the evening surf, gazing out to sea. Any time his heart hoped to see a dark head of hair appear above the waves, his head told him that he was being ludicrous. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation. Some sort of skilled, lone diver had helped Steve out today. No more, no less. Could even be one of those reckless reef divers they'd been trying to catch in the conservation areas these last few months.

That was the logical explanation. And what'd happened back in Catalina was still just a hallucination.

As much as Steve didn't want to believe it. _You know what you saw_ , his gut told him, _you know he was real._

Steve sighed at the ocean before him. “If you're real, then where are you?”

 

~ ~ ~

 

A night and a day had passed. At sunset, Bucky slowly came out of the water, standing up to full height on his legs. He'd already willed his tail to turn to legs as he swam through the shallows to get to the beach, and the pale glimmer of scales to fade from his skin. Observation of humans had shown him their skin wasn't pearlescent like his, underwater or on land, and he understood to an extent about blending in with his surroundings.

He flipped his wet hair back and waded forward with confidence. In his hand he clutched the wallet and photo card that'd belonged to the guy Bucky wanted to see. Stubborn human was going to throw himself into water, Bucky was going to have to watch him on land.

At least now he had a way to find him.

Bucky stepped onto sand, walking up the beach still dotted with people.

“Dude,” a younger man said, eyeing Bucky's naked form. “Cops don't go for that on this beach. There's kids around.”

A group of girls were staring openly at Bucky, one with their jaw dropping.

Bucky sensed there was some sort of issue, but he didn't understand what. A glance at the humans around him confirmed they all had bare skin on display, albeit with decorative material here and there.

“Take this, dude.” The man handed a piece of material to Bucky, soft and sun-warm. “Round your waist,” the man told him, when Bucky made no move. “Make it quick, beach patrol are right over there.”

 

Further along the beach, T'Challa spotted a nude male loitering at the shoreline. Shaking his head, T'Challa went to contain the situation. They were lucky it was the end of the day, and most people with young children had gone home already.

T'Challa didn't get paid enough for this crap.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The sun was setting but the light was still good. Steve, Clint and Natasha were setting up the lifeguard training for their newer recruits. Pietro and Wanda were lending a hand, and Clint was talking them through what to do before the other rookies arrived.

Steve and Natasha were doing equipment checks, ready to start the haul down to the rescue boat. Natasha was still trying to pry information from Steve about the other night at Stark's party. Steve had felt somewhat ridiculous for his dramatic exit, and it'd been easier to go along with everyone's assumption that he'd met a mystery date who had a mystery mode of transport, and that Steve hadn't actually jumped off a boat a mile offshore while intoxicated. Which was thoroughly irresponsible for a potential lieutenant lifeguard to do.

No, it was much more acceptable to have gone off with a mystery date, even though Steve hated lying.

Natasha seemed to be getting suspicious. Or maybe she felt bad for getting Steve drunk, he wasn't sure. He deflected her questions as best he could and tried to concentrate on equipment checks. Scuba gear was his main priority.

That and avoiding Natasha Romanov's piercing gaze.

“I only want to know how he got you off Stark's yacht,” she said, heaving oxygen tanks, passing one to Steve. “Was it romantic? Did he pick you up in a row boat?”

“You know, Nat,” Steve avoided looking at her, “I was pretty drunk, it was dark...”

“Yes,” she said, an edge in her voice. “Not ideal conditions.”

Steve sighed. “I know. I know. I've already disappointed myself, okay? I won't do it again.”

“Even if a hot guy begs you?”

That surprised a laugh out if Steve. “Even then,” he promised. Although the likelihood wasn't exactly high, he thought.

Steve's phone started to ring. He didn't recognise it at first, as his backup cell had a different ring tone to his former, now thoroughly ruined, phone. Steve looked at the screen, saw it was the beach sergeant. “Hey, T'Challa. What's up?”

“Steve,” T'Challa's voice greeted. “Are you still at tower twenty-seven?”

“Yeah, just on the sand,” Steve replied. “We haven't started the training yet. Why?”

“I have a man who has your wallet.”

“Oh?” Steve was surprised. He'd assumed it'd been lost to the ocean. Maybe a diver had happened upon it. “Well, that's great. Has he turned it in?”

Probably wanted a reward.

“We presume so,” T'Challa said. “He hasn't spoken, only pointed to your photo ID. We thought you may know who he is?”

“Me?” Steve didn't understand. “He hasn't said anything to you?”

“Not one word. And another thing...” T'Challa paused. “When we found him on the beach, he was walking around naked.”

“Naked?” Steve repeated dumbly, as Natasha looked over in question.

“Yes,” T'Challa said flatly.

“Why would he...” Steve trailed off, the image floating into his mind's eye of that perfect boy in the water at Catalina with pale, smooth skin. “Does he...” Steve swallowed hard. “Does he have brown hair?”

“Yes,” T'Challa replied. “Dark brown. Shoulder length.”

“Shit,” Steve breathed. “Where are you? Is he with you?”

“I brought him to headquarters,” T'Challa said. “He's waiting here for you.”

“Okay, okay, hold on,” Steve said, all in a rush, “I'm coming in. Don't let him leave. Thank you!”

Natasha watched him as he ended the call. “What's going on?” she asked.

“I have to go,” Steve told her, already moving. “You and Clint start the training, call in Scott if you need to!” He charged to the jeep and started the engine.

From their spot on the beach, his colleagues watched him drive off in a hurry.

“Something important?” Clint asked.

“Someone has Rogers' wallet,” Nat explained. “From the sounds of it, a naked man.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “His swim buddy from Stark's party. Bet you any money.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

It was lucky the beach had emptied out, as Steve drove fast, his heart thudding. He bombed it over the sand and made it back to base in record time. He killed the engine, bounding from the jeep and running up the steps to headquarters. Hope flared inside him, but Steve almost didn't dare believe until he could see with his own eyes.

The main office was quiet when Steve burst in. Sam was at the front desk, along with T'Challa. Steve rushed up to them. “Has he gone? Where's he gone? Where is he?”

“Relax, man.” Sam stood up and pointed across the office. “Your boy is right over there.”

Steve whirled around and, sure enough, sitting in the small waiting area and wearing an oversized L.A. County Lifeguards t-shirt, was a young man about Steve's age with shoulder length brown hair and pale, flawless skin. As soon as he spotted Steve, he unfolded long bare legs from under him and stood up, facing Steve with a smile.

Steve moved toward him, mesmerised. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. This man... he was like something conjured from Steve's dreams.

They stepped closer, and in his presence Steve felt a bone deep recognition. He couldn't look away, couldn't stop the answering smile on his face. “Uh... hi,” he said, still in disbelief. “You, um. I...”

The brunet reached out. He carefully touched a hand to Steve's face, guiding him closer. Steve leaned in instinctively, their lips coming together. Steve closed his eyes and let himself be kissed, circling his arms around the man. For the first time in years, Steve felt safe, anchored.

He got a bit lost in the kiss, only coming to awareness and pulling back when Sam cleared his throat. “Steve, I take it this is your mystery man.”

Steve grinned in response, still holding onto his new companion and looking into his eyes. “I sure hope so,” he breathed quietly.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Here we are.” Steve stopped the jeep and got out. It was dusk now, the street lights all flickering on. Steve went around to the passenger door to retrieve his guest, who was still looking curiously at the interior of the jeep like he'd never been in a vehicle before.

“Lemme help you out there,” Steve said, guiding his guest out of the jeep. The borrowed shirt he wore rode up his body, giving Steve a good view of very shapely thighs. Steve swallowed. “I'll, um... lend you some of my clothes when we get in.”

Standing on the side-walk together, the brunet simply smiled at Steve, seemingly in no hurry. Steve smiled back, unable to look away. He loved this man's smile; his whole face just lit up, pale eyes fixed on Steve like he was the only thing they saw. In front of his colleagues Steve had felt a little bashful, but now they were alone, he wanted to lose himself in that gaze forever.

Except, he didn't want his guest to catch cold. In his shorts and t-shirt, even Steve felt the cooler night air blowing in from the ocean.

“So, here we are,” Steve said, “this is my place. Well, I share it with Sam, but he won't be back for another few hours.”

His guest continued to smile at him. He was still holding onto Steve's hand.

“You can stay with me,” Steve added quietly, hoping he understood. The brunet's eyes flicked lower, watching Steve's lips, then up to his eyes. “You, um... You speak English?” Steve asked, but the man was looking at Steve's lips again before tugging him closer.

Steve closed the distance, his body thrumming with desire. They came together in a kiss, bodies pressed close. This time the kiss was more heated, open mouthed and deep. Steve breathed in, tried to break it off. “Wait, wait a sec...” He scrabbled for his keys and the auto lock button for the jeep. The brunet clung to him, mouthing wetly at Steve's neck, and now Steve was fully hard inside his shorts. He closed his eyes a moment and buried his nose in the dark head of hair, just breathed in his scent. It was the smell of salt, fresh air and sunshine, like the open sea; calming and exhilarating all at once. Steve pressed a kiss to his hair.

They could've stood there making out all night, but Steve didn't want to give his neighbours a show. “C'mon,” he said gently, half guiding and half carrying his guest up the path to his door. “Let's just... get inside first.”

He managed to get his front door open, and hauled his guest over the threshold. They knocked into the wall and the side table that contained spare radios and some of Steve's paperwork on top of it. Steve didn't care, he kicked the door shut and plastered himself against the gorgeous man who was hell bent on kissing him. Steve pressed him into the wall, kissed him back deeply.

The brunet responded with little huffs and gasps of pleasure, hanging onto Steve's shoulders and parting his legs to let Steve even closer. He hooked one leg around Steve's hip, his shirt riding up and his hard cock nudging at Steve's leg.

“Oh, God,” Steve gasped, pushing forward for more friction through his clothes. They weren't quite the right height, Steve a little taller. He pushed in, grinding their erections together as best he could, kissing hard and deep. The brunet moaned low in his throat, urging Steve on.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve swept his hand at the contents of the table to push them off, then grabbed his partner under his ass and hoisted him onto it. Now they were a perfect height, and the brunet gave a low hum of approval, and spread his legs readily for Steve to slot himself in.

They made out as they pressed together, both hard and desperate. Steve's shorts were damp from his own pre-come and the other man's cock rubbing over him. He fumbled at his shorts and pushed them down his thighs to free his erection. When their bare skin touched they both gasped, hard cocks meeting and sliding together.

The brunet tipped his head back on a moan, and Steve sucked a bruise onto the bare expanse of his throat.

“God, who are you?” Steve murmured, kissing down his shoulder. He thrust his hips forward. “I want you, I need you.”

The other man reached down, circling his fingers around Steve's cock. Steve groaned at the pressure, more when the man lined Steve's cock up to his own, holding them both in a firm grip.

Steve thrust into that grip, slowly gaining speed and clinging onto this incredible guy he'd only just met but already felt so close to.

None of this made any sense, and yet it did. This felt right, like coming home. Steve felt safe in his arms, striving closer to a completion he'd never felt before, thrusting harder, straining toward orgasm.

The brunet came first, tensing and then shuddering against Steve, come spilling from his cock. He cried out softly, and it was the first almost-sound of his voice Steve had heard, and it pushed him over the edge. He came hard, crying out himself, his come splashing between them.

“Oh, my God,” Steve gasped, still clinging to the other man. “Oh, God.” He sucked in huge gulps of air, trying to regulate his breathing. “You... I...” He noted the mess they'd made of themselves. “We should shower.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky allowed his mate to lead him, content and happy as he was. He approved of the dwelling, it seemed clean and safe. Aesthetically pleasing, in cool neutral shades and bare floors. His mate led him to a blue and white tiled room, turned on an overhead light. Bucky saw the stall with the shower in it. He'd seen similar instruments on beaches busy with humans; for some reason they always wanted to wash the seawater off.

Bucky deduced that their skin was too delicate.

He tried not to jerk in surprise when his mate switched the water on, and concentrated on his current human form, willing it to stay the same; no scales, no fins. Definitely no tail, thanks. It wasn't too tricky now, Bucky had practised his shifting.

“Do you want to shower?” His mate gestured at the running water, and started to mime washing himself.

Bucky smiled, amused.

His mate gave a wry smile in return. “Okay, wise-guy.” He opened the sliding door. “Here ya go. Call me if you need any--”

Before he could leave, Bucky caught his hand, tugged him close.

“What?” he asked, trying to read Bucky's face. “You want to go in together?” He gestured at the stall again. Bucky nodded. “Well, okay.” He began to strip off his garments.

Bucky raised his arms, waiting for his mate to assist.

He chuckled. “Now you're just messing with me. But all right, I don't mind undressing you.” He lifted the clothing over Bucky's head and off, then guided Bucky into the stall with him, and shut the door after them.

It was like being inside a glass tank. Bucky felt a little hemmed in, tried to tamp it down and concentrate on the big blond Adonis taking up all the room with his obscenely broad shoulders. Bucky snaked his hands up those shoulders, tracing their contours and the muscles on his arms. Bucky leaned in to kiss him, but his mate had other ideas, positioning them under the warm spray of water.

“Which body wash do you want?” The blond spoke, grabbing a small bottle. “What's this one... Oh, sea breeze and bergamot. That's a good one.” He squeezed a dollop into his palm, then transferred it to Bucky's chest, lathering him up.

Bucky was transfixed; the smell was rousing, and feeling his lover's hands as they spread the sweet smelling suds over his skin... it was such a turn on. He was hard again almost immediately, and pressed himself to his mate's body.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” His mate seemed pleased. “I'll wash you all over if you want.”

Soapy hands massaged down Bucky's arms, across his middle and around his back. Bucky nuzzled into a sculpted shoulder and hummed with pleasure as his mate washed them both.

When soapy hands trailed down his sides to his hips, Bucky gladly pressed closer, rutting his cock into the slippery wet grip of strong, callused hands.

Bucky had definitely decided he loved showers, this was to die for. He let the dextrous hand of his mate grip and tug on his cock, the other hand slipping lower to cup his balls. When Bucky felt soapy fingers seek out his entrance, he eagerly hitched a leg up to jump his mate, almost knocking them off balance in his haste.

“Whoa, hang on,” the blond gasped, laughing. “Too slippery for that. Let me just...” He rinsed them both clean, then used another bottle to wash his hair quickly. Bucky watched him, then he was carefully turned around and had his hair washed too. His mate said something about the scent, but Bucky couldn't concentrate, his eyes drifting closed with bliss.

Okay, he could definitely get used to this. Having his hair washed was divine, Bucky didn't want it to end.

All too soon he was rinsed clean, ushered out of the stall and the water turned off, much to his dismay. His mate wrapped them both in fluffy white towels, gently patting Bucky dry. He was talking quietly, and laid a smaller towel around Bucky's shoulders to catch the remaining drips from his hair.

“...wonder what language you speak,” his mate was saying, as Bucky zoned back in. He was a bit out of practise listening to human speech.

“What about written words?” The blond raised his hand to the mirror, using his index finger to spell out, S-T-E-V-E. He pointed to the finished word, “Steve,” he said, then pointed to himself. “Steve. Can you say that? Steve.”

Bucky grinned. He knew what the word was, recognised it from his mate's lost wallet. Now he was reminded what the sound was to go with it: Steve. Bucky liked the sound of it.

Smiling, he wrote on the mirror in reply.

His mate, Steve, seemed very pleased, babbling excitedly, “You understood? That's great! Is this your name?”

He watched Bucky spell out the letters that he'd thought of as his own for so long, since he'd seen them printed on a small plaque inside a cabin of a shipwreck. He'd just seen it and liked the shape of the word, so had named himself.

Steve stared at Bucky's word underneath his on the mirror a little dubiously. “Uh. _Bucky?_ ” He side-eyed him.

Bucky tapped on his chest to indicate himself, just in case Steve was slow.

“Bucky?” Steve sounded sceptical.

At his tone, Bucky levelled him with a look.

“I love it,” Steve amended quickly, “It's terrific. Everything about you is terrific. I'm kinda concerned I'm already head over heels for you, and I have no idea where you came from or if you actually understand a word I'm saying.” He breathed in deep, searching Bucky's eyes. “I talk when I'm nervous. I say stupid things. Please don't hold it against me.”

Bucky only smiled and stepped close to nuzzle Steve's neck, mouthing kisses onto his skin to soothe him.

“Okay, this is good,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Bucky. “This is great. Thank you.”

Bucky responded by rocking his hips forward, nudging his hard cock at Steve's hip. He wanted attention.

Instead of staying in the tiled room, Steve guided Bucky back along the hallway to his bedroom. Bucky hadn't been on a human bed for some time. Steve's bed was huge, soft, but bouncy and firm.

Bucky definitely approved.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve dozed heavily, sated and happy. He'd gone to sleep wrapped around the warm body of his lover as they sprawled in bed. Usually sleep was a struggle for Steve, but tonight he was exhausted after two more rounds of love-making, and he felt safe cradled in Bucky's arms.

It shouldn't make any sense, he barely knew the guy... but Steve had never felt happier.

He was roused from sleep with the sensation of Bucky's hand stroking his thigh, his mouth sucking bruises at the sensitive juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder. He stirred awake with a smile, and turned to the brunet to return sleepy kisses.

Bucky's fingers found the tip of Steve's half hard cock, squeezing gently before taking a firmer grip. Steve hummed in pleasure. “You're gonna put me in a hospital,” he teased, rocking his hips into Bucky's hand.

He hadn't had this much sex since...

Well, ever.

Steve hadn't felt all consuming lust like this before, it was mind blowing. He sought out Bucky's mouth and kissed him hungrily, pressing their bodies close. Bucky kissed back, and before Steve could get his brain properly into gear, Bucky rolled them so he was on top, pinning Steve beneath him.

Steve was momentarily stunned, not only because Bucky's sheer strength was a bit of a shock, but also he was distractingly gorgeous. To think that someone so intense and beautiful wanted to focus entirely on Steve was more than a little mind blowing.

As if reading his hesitation, Bucky raised his eyebrows slightly, checking if Steve was okay.

Words might've been beyond Steve in that moment, gazing up at Bucky straddling him, but he nodded vigorously.

Bucky's plump, kissable lips curved into a grin, and he sat up to position himself over Steve's cock, now hard and eager to plunge back inside his lover's body. Steve held his erection steady as Bucky raised up on his thighs, then lowered himself down. Steve's cock slid between his cheeks, his ass still slippery with lube from their fucking earlier. The head of Steve's cock nudged Bucky's hole, eased inside, and from there Bucky took control, sinking down onto Steve's thick cock, impaling himself on its length.

Steve groaned in pleasure, hands gripping Bucky's hips as he helped lift him up, then sink back down on Steve's cock. Up and down, again and again. He locked eyes with Steve, pinning him with his half lidded gaze. It was like staring into his own soul, Steve thought; everything he'd so dearly wanted, a companion, a soulmate, and here he was and he was beautiful and perfect, bouncing on Steve's dick like he owned it.

Steve was close to losing it, everything far too intense. He moved one hand from Bucky's hip, and took hold of his bobbing cock to jerk him off.

Bucky's mouth opened on a wordless cry, and he sped up his movements, thrusting himself through Steve's hand faster and faster. He groaned long and loud when he came, spilling between them and clenching down on Steve's cock.

Steve's hips stuttered, slamming hard into Bucky two, three more times, then he came with a choked off moan and Bucky's name on his lips. Steve clung to him through the orgasm that rocked his body and left him breathless. He clung on still when Bucky tried to move, and instead rolled them so Bucky was now on his back under Steve, with Steve's cock still buried deep in his ass.

Bucky looked at him and raised a brow. Steve smiled at the challenge, settling on his elbows as he pressed closer to Bucky, pushed deeper into him. Bucky grunted as Steve thrust in, and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist with the force of a steel trap. His strong thighs pulled Steve forward into Bucky's waiting arms, snatching him into a kiss.

Steve moaned into Bucky's mouth, felt like he was tumbling further into the abyss each moment with this man, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He righted himself enough to get a purchase, and started thrusting hard into Bucky, his ass wet and filled with Steve's come. Bucky grunted softly, became pliant as Steve ploughed into him, mouth opening in surprised little huffs.

“You want another round with me?” Steve husked near his ear, bit at his skin.

Bucky shivered, but then his nimble fingers brushed Steve's chest, seeking out his nipples to pinch and flick them.

“Jesus, fuck,” Steve gasped, losing his rhythm for a moment. He slowed his thrusts and pushed in deeper, grabbed Bucky's wrists to pin his hands above his head. Steve gazed down at him, still fucking slowly and steadily into his ass. “You're amazing,” he breathed, watching Bucky's face and then his cock between them as it bounced with each thrust. “I'm not sure if I'm dreaming all this. If I am, it's the best dream ever.”

Bucky was staring up at him with something like wonder, letting Steve fuck him how he wanted. And Steve was pretty sure that Bucky yielding like this was a big deal for him, that if he wanted to he could crush Steve with his thighs alone. He trusted Steve like this.

Steve felt overwhelmed, and too close to the edge again. He bent down, intending to kiss his lover, but in that moment of distraction Bucky surged up, flipping Steve over. It was an impressive and yet carefully calculated show of strength. Steve's reflexes got the better of him for a moment, and he counter manoeuvred as they were mid flip, used Bucky's momentum to his own advantage. Their tussle for the top landed them too close to the edge of the bed, and they tumbled over onto the floor, along with most of the covers.

At the last possible second, Bucky changed tact in order to land first, taking the brunt of the soft fall in order to protect Steve. He looked a little put out when Steve asked if he was okay, then grinned deviously.

“Jerk,” Steve told him, “I'm not done with you yet,” starting their tussle anew.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Elsewhere in the apartment, Sam Wilson was getting in from his late shift, noting the uncharacteristic mess in the hallway, and the damp towels littering the bathroom. He raised an eyebrow at the thumps and bumps coming from Steve's bedroom.

Sam made a mental note to personally thank whoever had designed the apartment so that the bedrooms did _not_ share a wall.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Despite being exhausted, it was perhaps too good to be true that Steve could have a peaceful, dreamless sleep. He was always so worried what a potential partner would think of his nightmares and restless nights. Sam knew, of course. They'd been room-mates for a couple years now, but Sam had also served; he understood.

Steve was asleep, and felt a familiar anxious dream set in. He was back in the army, worrying for his squad. Sometimes it was his lifeguards. Sometimes it all blurred together. Anyone Steve felt responsible for; his team-mates, his mom, his dad. His few ex's who hadn't worked out. Anyone who got too close to him seemed to end up leaving one way or another.

Just as the dream began to grow darker and more menacing, Steve was pulled back from the edge by a voice singing softly, and a hand caressing his hair. The sensations were completely new yet so soothing, Steve drifted past the awful dreams and into a deeper sleep. He'd never felt so relaxed.

 

The morning sunlight warmed Steve's face, as it did every morning. As he came awake, he heard someone humming gently, the same melody as the song he'd heard in his dream; timeless words murmured by a soft, low voice.

Steve blinked his eyes open, lifted his face from the pillow. Firstly, he was a little shocked to see that his mystery brunet, Bucky, was _real_ , and still in bed with him.

“Uh,” he said unintelligently, “h-hi.”

The humming ceased, as pale eyes slid over to meet Steve's, watching him closely.

“You're... you're real,” Steve mumbled. “Unless I'm still asleep.”

Bucky's lips twitched into a smirk, eyes flashing with mirth.

If Steve didn't know any better, he'd swear his new... _acquaintance_ understood him. “Er... So.” Steve sat up against his pillows, rubbing his face and smoothing down his bed hair. He hoped he looked decent. “Can I make you breakfast? Eat?” He mimed eating.

Bucky watched him, smiling, before inching closer and folding himself all along Steve's side.

“Or we can cuddle first,” Steve said.

This was surreal. He hadn't woken up with a date and felt this at ease in... He couldn't remember. Steve wasn't great at mornings with other people, or at relationships in general, really. His awkwardness always managed to bleed out. He was tensing even now.

Bucky must've noticed, as he snuggled closer into Steve and resumed humming softly. Steve felt the vibrations of his voice, chest to chest as they were.

“Very nice.” He closed his eyes, giving in and curling an arm around Bucky. “I had a dream about this song. Don't recognise it though.”

The humming stopped. “Sailor's song,” came the reply, as Steve's eyes flew open in surprise. The humming resumed. Bucky hadn't moved, and Steve was left staring up at his own ceiling in utter confusion.

Finally he said, “Um, did you just...? Did you...? Can you _understand_ me?”

The humming stopped again. Bucky raised his head, looked at Steve calmly. “Yes,” he stated, like it was nothing of consequence.

Steve felt his cheeks flush, and he made to disentangle himself and sit up. “You speak English?” he said in disbelief.

Bucky considered, then shrugged one shoulder, nonchalant. “Some.”

“Oh,” Steve breathed. “ _Some_ , huh? Some. Okay, great. Well, thanks for letting me know.”

_Wow, how embarrassing._

Exactly _how_ much nonsense had Steve uttered last night, thinking Bucky couldn't understand him? Now he was blushing hard, his face burning with shame. Steve scrambled out of bed, searching for clothes to pull on, making some excuse about fixing them food.

As he tugged a t-shirt on he dared a glance back at the bed, asking, “What do you want for...?” He trailed off. Bucky was watching him with quiet amusement, laying on his side with one arm bent behind his head like an artist's model. Steve had the urge to sketch him, and he hadn't drawn from a model in years.

“Uh, Bucky?” He cleared his throat. “What do you fancy for breakfast?”

Bucky appeared to consider for a moment, then he pushed the sheets aside and reached for his cock, wrapping a hand firmly around its length.

“Um,” Steve said, eyes nailed to his lover, slowly jerking himself off in Steve's bed. “Uh... Bucky?”

Bucky twitched an eyebrow at him, uncurled his bent arm and beckoned at Steve with a finger.

“Yeah, okay.” Steve threw off his clothes again and hurried back to the bed, his lover receiving him with open arms and a small chuckle.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Sam Wilson considered himself to be a pretty decent room-mate. He'd known Steve for years, lived with him for a couple now, and they'd never had any problems. Steve was considerate to a fault; the man would hardly leave a dirty mug out of place, let alone leave a mess in his wake.

That was why Sam had overlooked the random mess last night, even tidied it all up as he got ready for bed himself. And maybe put his earbuds in with some relaxing ocean waves to fill his ears, instead of the rhythmic bumping and the occasional crash coming from Steve's room. Steve was getting the workout of a lifetime from the sounds of it.

That'd teach Sam to nag the man about getting laid.

But really, Sam was pleased for him. Steve hardly dated at all, especially lately, so this sort of behavior was a first as far as Sam was aware.

Steve had to have met his mystery man some place and kept it on the down low.

Long walks alone on the beach at night, my ass, Sam thought.

He smiled to himself when Steve finally emerged in the morning, tumbling into the kitchen looking all kinds of dishevelled, and sporting more than one major hickey on his neck.

“Morning.” Sam grinned wide. He'd never seen Steve look so disoriented. Normally he was a morning person, up before everyone else.

“Hey, Sam,” Steve mumbled, grabbing for a mug and the coffee pot. He poured half a cup, splashing some on the counter and grunting in annoyance.

Sam sipped at his own coffee and tried not to laugh.

Steve laid a dishcloth over his spilled coffee, then picked up his mug. “Gonna take a shower,” he yawned out.

“Steve. Go back to bed. I already got Clint to cover your shift today.”

“No, it's fine.” Steve yawned again. He fumbled his way to the hall, bumping into the door jamb along the way and knocking coffee to the floor.

Sam shook his head at Steve's departure, and went to mop up the mess from the floor.

 

When Steve re-emerged from his shower, his tan office shirt with the L.A. County Lifeguards patches on the shoulders was buttoned lopsidedly. He only looked slightly more awake than before.

At least he had his pants on, Sam mused. “Steve,” he said gently, “take the day off, man. It's cool. You haven't had a personal day in, like... ever. It'd be better than Fury or Hill spotting you like this.”

“No, I'm going in, Sam.” Steve may have been half asleep, but he was determined. The look on his face said it all. “My, um... ah...” He struggled for a moment, trying to locate his keys. “My... I mean, Bucky is... if he wakes up--”

“Hold up.” Sam grinned, leaning back against the counter. “ _Bucky?_ ”

Steve wouldn't look him in the eye. His cheeks were tinged pink. “Yeah. His name is Bucky.”

This was too much.

“That a nickname? Like those Bucky Bears they made back in the fifties?”

“Uh...” Steve floundered. “Just... if you see him, tell him I'll be back after my shift. I left him a note but... I don't know if he can read much English.”

“Don't worry, man. If I see him I'll tell him. I'm going down the beach later.”

“Okay. Okay, thanks, Sam. Have a good day.”

“Steve.” Sam stopped him before he could leave, gestured at his lopsided shirt. “You might wanna...”

Steve flushed harder, and hastily re-buttoned his shirt. “Thanks, Sam. See you later,” he said, as he flew out the door.

“Drink more coffee!” Sam called after him.

The apartment was quiet in Steve's absence, until about an hour later when Sam heard the shower in the bathroom turn on. That'd be Steve's date, then.

Sam busied himself getting ready to go out. He had errands to run on his day off, then he had plans to whoop Scott's ass at volleyball, along with Pietro and Wanda.

Thirty minutes later, Steve's date was still in the shower. Sam didn't want to intrude, but he couldn't help wanting to check that everything was okay.

“Hey, man.” He knocked on the bathroom door. “You all good? I'm Sam, Steve's room-mate.”

The water turned off.

“We met briefly yesterday,” Sam went on, as the door swung open to reveal Steve's playmate, Bucky; naked and dripping wet.

“Whoa.” Sam averted his eyes. “Aaaaand you're naked again. Why don't you grab yourself a towel...” He pointed at the clean stack of towels on the hamper. “Was just checking you're okay an' all.”

Bucky was clearly a man of few words, observing Sam in silence.

“Okay, well... I'm headed out.” Sam backed away.

Bucky merely raised an eyebrow.

“You good here? You need anything before I go? Steve will be back at some point. Help yourself to coffee, food...”

He retreated to the kitchen, looking over his shoulder as Bucky trailed after him. Thankfully the guy had wrapped a towel round his hips.

“Good, that's good,” Sam said. “See? You're learning. Don't you want another towel for your hair though?” He gestured to Bucky's wet hair. “You're dripping all over the--”

Bucky pulled the towel from his waist and lifted it to his hair.

Sam swivelled around, averting his eyes from the man's junk yet again. “Aw, hell no, man. That is not what I meant! Cover your package.”

Sam missed the sly grin on the other man's face.

“I'm leaving,” Sam grouched, picking up his keys. “I'll be having a talk with Steve about the amount of nudity around here. New house rule, underpants on in all common areas.”

Bucky stepped in front of him as he tried to leave. “Steve?”

“Uh, Steve went to work.” Sam carefully looked Bucky in the face, definitely not down at the rest of him. “Work,” he repeated. “Be back soon.”

But when he tried to leave again, Bucky repeated plaintively, “Steve?”

Against Sam's better judgement, he relented. “All right, all right. If you come with me I'm headed to the beach, I can drop you there after my errands.”

Bucky stared at him blankly.

“ _Steve_ ,” Sam said. “But you gotta put clothes on, man. We ain't a nudist colony.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Turned out that running errands with Bucky was both hilarious and nerve-wracking, even for someone as calm and collected as Sam Wilson.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say that boy was punking him most of the time, but Bucky had enough wide-eyed innocence about him to get away with it. Sam had managed to get him into clothes at least; a pair of Sam's multi-coloured beach shorts, and a t-shirt. Any of Steve's clothes had been too tight.

Sam had leant Bucky some flip flops too, only for Bucky to stare at them like he didn't know what they were, and do exaggerated tip-toe walking in them until he kicked them off somewhere when Sam wasn't looking.

They were at Logan's scuba diving shop when Sam noticed Bucky was barefoot. “Did you...?” Sam looked around for the sandals. “Man, you better not take your clothes off,” he admonished. “Go barefoot if you want, but you better keep the damn clothes on, or the cops'll be busting your ass for real this time.”

Logan watched them both with a wry look. “New friend?”

“Not me,” Sam scoffed. “This is Steve's friend, and I plan on reuniting them soon as.”

“If you say so, Wilson.” Logan waved them off.

Sam was loading his new gear into his jeep when he realised Bucky wasn't next to him. “Bucky?” Sam looked around the small lot, spotted him a ways off about to cross the busy intersection. “Hey! Hey, stop!” Sam sprinted, waving his arms, frantic. He caught Bucky's attention before he stepped into traffic. “Aw, no, man. What you doing?” Sam held onto Bucky's arm to tug him back to the car. “Put a damn leash on you,” he muttered.

Bucky pointed at the ocean in the distance. “Steve?”

“Yes, Steve.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Tell you what. I can do errands another time. Let's go get Steve _right now_.”

He hauled Bucky back to the jeep, hustling him in at the passenger side. “Get your seatbelt on, man,” he instructed. He got out his cell phone and called Headquarters. “Clint. It's Sam. Is Rogers there?”

Sam rolled his eyes at the news; Steve was secretly napping in the back office. Clint had put him there so Fury wouldn't see him half asleep if he happened to drop by.

So, if Sam put a curious, pain in the ass Bucky in Steve's charge right now, they could both be a hazard. Steve was up for promotion, he didn't need the distraction when there were too many superiors watching his step.

“Never mind, then,” Sam told Clint. “Tell Steve he's a big blond pain in my ass, and to call me.”

“Roger that,” Clint answered with a chuckle.

Sam ended the call and got in the driver's seat. His phone started to ring, but it wasn't Steve like Sam had hoped, it was Wanda.

“What now,” he muttered, accepting the call. “Yo.”

“Sam!” Wanda exclaimed. “If you haven't left yet, can you come pick me up?”

“What am I? Taxi service?” he mocked. “Yeah, all right. You better be ready to go. I'll be there in twenty.”

“Twenty minutes? Sam, I need to plait my hair and--”

“Twenty minutes!” Sam ended the call. “That's why I keep _my_ hair short,” Sam said to himself, side-eyeing Bucky.

 

~ ~ ~

 

In the end, Sam took Bucky into Wanda's apartment while she finished getting ready. He made sure to lock the front door so Bucky wouldn't disappear off, then he sat on the couch with his feet up and breathed a sigh of relief.

Wanda made them coffee, which Bucky inhaled three cups of before Sam noticed and cut him off. “Nuh-uh, nope. Seriously, I do not need a caffeine frenzied version of this guy.” He ignored Bucky's frown as he wrestled the cup away.

“Why are you spending the day with Steve's date anyway?” Wanda smiled, braiding her hair into its usual plait.

Sam threw her a look. “I'm just the delivery man,” he said. “Soon as we can I'll drop home-boy off with Steve, let him take care of his own date.”

“Oh, Sam, seriously,” Wanda said, “he can't be that...” She stopped when she realized Bucky was rifling through her kitchenette. “Maybe he's hungry?” She finished her French plait, and got up to join him. “You want breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Sam chuffed a laugh. “It's past one.”

Wanda ignored him. “Let's make breakfast,” she said to Bucky.

 

Forty-five minutes later, they parked at the beach, with Wanda complaining to Sam about how much food Bucky had eaten (“Send the bill to Rogers!” Sam had said) and Sam complaining about Pietro being late for the volleyball game.

Sam had to nudge Bucky awake in the back-seat, in a pancake induced food coma from earlier, then they left the jeep together, making their way onto the beach.

“Listen,” Sam said to Wanda, as they stepped onto warm sand, “Steve hasn't called me yet, but if Pietro isn't down by the nets ready to go, then I'd better drive the human locust here up to HQ where Steve is.”

“Why can't Steve come here?” Wanda spun the volleyball in her hands.

“Good question,” Sam huffed. “Because he's busy and I'm a glutton for punishment, that's why.”

They passed sunbathers and kids playing in the sand, Sam keeping a close watch on Bucky, and headed to the volleyball nets not far from the Bay Club.

Scott was already there, on a beach towel along with his young daughter, Cassie, under the shade of a large parasol. Cassie was busy making a sandcastle of epic proportions. Scott got up to greet them.

“Hey, Tic Tac.” Sam fist-bumped him. “Hey there, Cassie!”

As Cassie waved hello to them, Scott gestured to Bucky with a not so subtle, “Uh...?”

“Tic Tac, Bucky. Bucky, Scott Lang.” Sam introduced, then added to Scott, “He don't speak much.”

“Okay,” Scott said. “Well, where's Pietro?”

Wanda checked her phone. “He says he'll be here soon.”

Sam snorted. “Man, that boy's attention span is worse than his.” He pointed at Bucky accusingly.

Scott shrugged. “Why doesn't he play instead?”

“Yeah, join in!” Wanda urged to a nonplussed Bucky.

“This is gonna go well.” Sam took the ball, and went to give Bucky a demo as they stepped up to a vacant net. “Okay, the rules are... No, don't touch the net, man.” Sam pulled Bucky away from the net, and held the ball in Bucky's direct eyeline to get his attention. “I hit the ball to Scott over there, he hits it back to me. It can't touch the ground. Got it? Watch.” He expertly bopped the ball over the net, and Scott sent it straight back over.

Sam caught the ball. “Nice. Okay, Bucky, next time you try to hit it. Over it goes...” He bopped it over to Scott again, then stood aside. “Here it comes... Okay, hit the ball.” Sam pointed as it came sailing overhead.

Bucky gazed up at it, looking hilarious in a pair of Wanda's pink sunglasses, and his hair tied back in a messy braid, but he adjusted his stance and got ready to hit the ball. When he hit it, he sent it flying high over the net, far out of reach of Scott or Wanda.

“Oh, man...” Scott watched the ball land and bounce off in the sand.

Sam blinked in amazement, then pointed at Bucky. “Okay, he's on my team.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Steve woke up he was sprawled over the desk, drooling into his own paperwork with a spreadsheet stuck to his face. His pained groan was answered by a chuckle, so he peeled the paper from his face and sat up.

Carol was in the other seat, reading through a training manual with her feet up. Steve would've told her to take her feet off the desk, but he'd just been drooling onto it himself. He cleared his throat. “Carol.”

“Steve.” She smirked at him. “Feeling better?”

“Uh, apart from a crick in my neck.” He smiled back, embarrassed. Carol was a lieutenant, and had been the person to recommend Steve for lieutenant as well. “I don't usually...”

“Relax, Rogers. We got you covered today.” Carol closed the manual and took her feet down, leaning forward on the desk. “Those are some impressive hickeys.”

“Um...” Steve's hands went to his collar to straighten it up. He tried not to look embarrassed. He knew his neck had bruises over it, that's why he'd opted for office based work today with a shirt, instead of his usual open necked t-shirt on the beach. “I, um... I should get back to work.”

“If you insist.” Carol grinned wickedly. “But Clint said to tell you to knock off early and go find Sam. He's got your boy-toy with him.”

Now Steve was really blushing. “His name is Bucky. And I don't need to skip out early, I can catch up with them later.”

Carol was unperturbed. “Alright. I'm sharing the office with you for the rest of the day, too. You can tell me all about him.” She nodded at his neck. “I've got a concealer which should be about your shade. Yours, if you spill the beans.”

Steve blinked at her in amazement, then stood up and started to collect his things. “Y'know, on second thought, tell Clint I said thanks.”

“You _sure_ you don't want concealer?” Carol laughed at Steve's retreating back.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve changed into his regular clothes in the locker-room; shorts and a t-shirt. He was a little self-conscious about his neck, especially when Natasha strolled in to find him, a knowing grin in place. She held up a small stick of make-up. “Carol and I decided you were either a nude, or ivory.”

Steve wasn't sure what to say, but he took the concealer with a quiet, “Thanks,” and went to the mirror above the sink to apply it.

Today couldn't get any more mortifying, as far as he was concerned.

When he went back to his locker, Steve had hoped Natasha would be gone. She was on duty after all. But she was waiting for him on the bench, standing up when he collected his things. She was in her red bathing suit, sports bag and red floatie in hand, sunglasses on a clasp around her neck. “I'll walk down with you. Tower twenty is empty, so I'm covering until close.”

“Ah, right. Where's Sam and Bucky?”

“They're playing volleyball by the club,” she said. “Sam sent me a Snap.”

“Oh.” Steve processed that information as they left the lockers. Sam and Bucky were sending Snaps to Natasha now? “That's... that's great.”

“Are you relieved, or jealous?” Natasha asked. They exited headquarters and walked down its steps onto the beach.

Steve wasn't sure what he was. After a few strides over the sand, he shrugged. “Both?” He laughed. “Which feels pretty dumb.”

Natasha was quiet as they walked, both scanning the dwindling crowds and the bathers in the surf.

“It's nice when someone you like also gets on well with your friends,” Natasha said finally.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “You're right. I'm pleased. I just wasn't expecting... I mean, it's all a bit sudden.”

Now Nat was watching him. “How long have you known each other?”

Steve should've kept his big mouth shut. After an awkward pause, he decided to stick to the truth. “We've only be reacquainted recently.”

“I see.” She smiled. “And before? How well did you know him?”

Steve gazed ahead as the volleyball nets came into view in the distance. “Not very,” he replied. “And it's not what you think, either.”

“What do I think?” Natasha was enigmatic as usual. They were approaching tower number twenty.

“You think I'm just hooking up with him,” Steve said.

“Do I?” Natasha didn't give much away, and Steve squirmed under her gaze.

Finally she relented. “Steve, I think if you really like someone, then try not to overthink things, and just see what happens.” She stepped up onto the gangplank, already looking out at the swimmers in the waves. Steve wasn't sure how to respond, and hesitated. “Go find him,” Nat instructed, shoving him in his shoulder. “Enjoy a day off for once, Rogers.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Steve saluted with a smile as he walked away. He made his way down the beach, tension mounting as he approached the volleyball area. He spotted his team-mates, along with Bucky, playing a vigorous game.

Bucky and Sam were playing side by side, giving Pietro and Wanda a run for their money. Scott was sitting under a parasol with Cassie, both yelling out helpful advice for the game.

As Steve neared them, he saw that Bucky had his hair tied back, was wearing pink sunglasses, and what looked like a pair of Sam's shorts as he played volleyball. He smiled, and said a soft hello to Cassie and Scott, crouching down with them. “How long have they been playing?”

“Hours,” Scott said. “Cassie had time to do a sandcastle extension.”

“That is a pretty neat sandcastle,” Steve admired, while Cassie preened in delight.

“Steve, how's it going?” Sam called out. Steve waved back and, casually as he could, walked up to the net. “You want to play?”

Once Bucky's laser focus was off the game and he noticed Steve, he bounded over. “Hey,” Steve began, expecting maybe a shy hello or... Well, he wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it sure as hell wasn't for Bucky to launch at Steve, arms thrown around his neck and lips on his for a kiss.

Steve stumbled on the sand but managed to right himself, holding onto Bucky as he pulled back to grin broadly. “Steve!” he declared happily. He set his feet back on the ground, but didn't relinquish his hold of Steve.

“Hi,” Steve said with a bashful smile. He gently lifted the shades off Bucky's face, pushing them up to rest on his head. Blue-grey eyes shone back at him, and Steve lost himself in their depths.

“Yo, Rogers,” Sam interrupted, “you're distracting my best player here.”

“Sorry,” Steve replied, trying to separate himself from Bucky, who clung on like a limpet. “You can play on.”

“I need a break!” Wanda called, headed over to Scott and Cassie's beach towel.

Pietro threw his hands up. “We had a break half an hour ago!”

“I want another break.” Wanda sat under the parasol and got out a bottle of sun-tan.

“I want to play with my beach ball now, Daddy!” Cassie declared, brandishing her inflatable, polka-dot ball.

“She has been patient,” Scott said, getting to his feet. “We'll go take a paddle.”

Sam laughed. “Well, that's game over!”

“We can play in the water!” Pietro took off on a run, kicking up sand as he went. Cassie squealed and charged after him on little legs, Scott following her at a slow jog.

“I'm taking a break first,” Sam said, joining Wanda under the parasol and opening a bottle of water. “Steve?”

“Uh...” Steve looked to Bucky, still holding onto Steve but watching Pietro and Scott splashing about with Cassie in the water.

“Bucky?” Steve asked gently, getting his attention. “You want to go in the water too?”

Bucky looked at him, then back at the water. Cassie was swimming in her arm bands, Scott wading after her with her ball, while Pietro thrashed around to splash them. Cassie squealed with laughter. Bucky glanced back at Steve, looking torn.

“You can if you want.” Steve gestured at the water. He hadn't meant to interrupt Bucky's fun with them.

As they parted, Steve thought Bucky would go to them, choose them over Steve. Bucky was clearly drawn to the water play. But he hesitated, and with one more glance at Steve he slipped away and started walking in the opposite direction along the beach.

“Bucky?” Steve followed him, concerned.

“Tell him I need those sunglasses back at some point!” Wanda called after him.

Steve caught up to Bucky, fell into step beside him. “Hey,” he said quietly.

Bucky glanced up at him, smiled, then looked down to watch his feet as he walked.

Steve went quiet, worrying over what to say. They strolled along the sand, Steve following Bucky's lead; not too close to the shoreline. The sound of the waves filled the silence. Bucky seemed somewhat muted, so Steve nudged him.

“Did you have a good day?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered, but didn't elaborate any further.

“Everything... uh, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Er, great. That's great.” Steve swallowed. Was he getting ditched? Did Bucky want him to leave?

Just as Steve was about to worry himself into knots, Bucky looked over at him, and carefully laced his fingers into Steve's, slotting their hands together. He held Steve's gaze, and smiled. And just like that, Steve felt safe and at ease once more.

“I'm really glad you're here,” Steve blurted out.

Bucky smiled back at him, but otherwise gave no indication he'd understood. He did squeeze Steve's hand though, so on some level Steve was certain Bucky got what he was saying.

He smiled back. “So... you didn't tell me where you're from?” Steve asked, one of the many, many burning questions he had.

Bucky blinked at him. Wisps of dark hair had come loose from his braid, and brushed across his face in the sea breeze.

“Where are you from?” Steve pressed on. “Your home?”

Bucky seemed to understand that word, and he nodded out to sea.

“Home?” Steve said again.

Bucky pointed with his free hand at the ocean.

“Um, Hawaii?” Steve wasn't sure what else Bucky meant. Maybe he lived on a boat, or an island. That could explain the... lack of communication thing. “How long are you staying for?”

Bucky bit his lip and looked away.

Steve held onto his hand. “You can stay with me,” he offered. “As long as you want. Bucky? Do you want to stay with me?”

Bucky stopped walking. He searched Steve's face for a long moment before tugging him close, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders. “Home?” he asked.

Steve hugged him back, kissed him on his neck. “Yeah, Bucky. Home.”

 

 

 


	2. An Unusual Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazingly talented [Ilyone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyone/pseuds/Ilyone) has done beautiful fan art inspired by chapter one, when merboy!Bucky rescues young Steve. Please go check it out and show them some love on [Ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8157268), and [Tumblr](http://ilyone.tumblr.com). Thank you, Ilyone! 
> 
>  
> 
> ~ ~ ~

“I don't think he has a job, Sam,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky was in the shower. Again.

“Well, he's gonna need one.” Sam didn't even glance up from his cell phone, ordering pizza for dinner because they didn't have much else left. “Boy eats like a horse.”

“I know.” Steve winced. “Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” Sam smirked, “just help the guy out.”

“I will. I've been thinking. See, I'm not sure he has any ID, or social security. He just stared at me blankly when I brought it up.”

“Language barrier,” Sam pointed out.

“And all this rules out a lot of work.” Steve leant back on the couch, folded his arms. “I don't want him too far away for now. I think it'd be better if he stayed close to the beach so I can keep an eye on him.”

Sam smirked again. “Mm hm.”

“I'm serious, Sam. I'm worried how he'd be with people, or how they'd be with _him_.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, he was kinda a pain in the ass when I took him to the boulevard. Acted like he'd never been in civilisation before, and almost walked out onto the free-way.”

“That's what I mean.”

Sam put his phone down. “Okay. So, he don't speak much English,” he counted off on his fingers, “likely not an American citizen, no paperwork. But... he is fit and able. You want him near the beach, with someone you trust.”

“Who doesn't mind non-US employees,” Steve agreed. He frowned in thought, then an idea hit him. “What about Bruce and Thor?”

Sam nodded. “It's a possibility. But wouldn't he be better off with Peter and Mary-Jane on the kid's inflatables?”

“They're too young,” Steve said. “They have their hands full looking after the other kids, let alone someone else. I'd feel better with someone older.”

“You gonna give Bruce a call now?”

“I'll do it tomorrow.” Steve stretched his arms above his head, stifling a yawn. “How many pizzas did you order?”

“Enough,” Sam said pointedly.

 

Half an hour later, they were all eating pizza together. Bucky, fresh out of the shower and wearing some lounge pants Steve had found for him, was devouring slice after slice of pepperoni with extra cheese like a starving man. He kept grunting out little huffs and groans of happy approval.

Steve sat next to him on the couch, and tried not to be distracted. Sam watched from the chair opposite. Both him and Steve chewed awkwardly in silence as Bucky ploughed his way through a large pizza to himself, sounding like he was on the verge of orgasm with every bite. Steve felt his face grow hot.

Eventually, Sam grinned in amusement and gestured at Bucky, who had closed his eyes in sheer bliss. “Y'know, if Romanov or Barton were here, they'd ask you if that's his 'o' face...”

“Well, they're not here,” Steve replied shortly, “and you don't have to stoop to their level.”

Bucky carried on as if no one existed except him and his pizza.

Sam chuckled. “This is one step away from _When Harry Met Sally_ and the diner scene. I'm waiting for some lady to lean in and say, 'I'll have what he's having'.”

Steve was definitely blushing now, but he managed a contrite, “Sorry, Sam.”

“Man, don't be.” Sam finished off his slice and stood. “Actually, I'm headed out. Leave you two love-birds alone.”

“Sam, you don't have to, we're--”

“I was talking to him and the pizza,” Sam teased, nodding to Bucky.

Steve huffed a laugh. “You still don't have to leave.”

“It's cool.” Sam grinned at him as he walked away. “Got myself a date. Gonna go make myself presentable.”

“Good luck with that,” Steve called after him. Sam's laugh came as reply.

Next to Steve, Bucky had finished his pizza and licked his fingers clean one by one. He hummed in pleasure. Steve tried not to stare, he really tried. Bucky had his eyes closed anyway, he wouldn't know if Steve was looking...

God, he was gorgeous. Sitting on Steve's couch in just pants, his chest bare, all blissed out from food.

“Um... You want any more?” Steve asked him.

Bucky grunted, and didn't open his eyes as he sank back into the couch cushions, so Steve took that as a no.

He tried to get on with finishing his own pizza, but the boner in his pants was distracting him. Thank God he'd had a pizza box on his lap this whole time; poor Sam put up with enough already.

Steve was half relieved and half nervous he'd be left alone with Bucky for the evening. The thought of starting a proper relationship with this unusual, beautiful man was exciting and made Steve's heart thump.

Then there was the reality of having an evening alone together. It was a little daunting, to say the least.

You think too much, Rogers, he told himself, tearing his eyes away from a sleepy Bucky. His appetite gone, Steve removed the pizza box and placed it on the coffee table. He sat on the edge of the couch, unsure what to do. Should he... talk? Or would Bucky rather be left in peace?

Bucky cracked an eye open then, and grunted out, “Steve,” as he reached for him, pulled him back onto the couch.

“What's up?” Steve asked, eager to please.

Bucky didn't answer, but he clutched his stomach and groaned, less in ecstasy and more in discomfort.

“You ate too much?” Steve shifted to reposition them, moving himself to one end of the couch so Bucky could stretch out. “It'll feel better if you lay flat for a while.”

Bucky splurged out, head on the armrest, his legs draped over Steve's lap. He groaned rather dramatically, flinging an arm over his eyes and letting the other arm dangle to the floor.

Steve smiled. “It's not that bad.”

Bucky didn't answer, and after a few moments of Steve stroking his fingertips up and down his legs, Bucky started to snore softly.

Steve chuckled to himself. He'd been fretting over starting a new relationship, while Bucky was relaxed enough to nod off at the drop of a hat. Steve felt touched that Bucky trusted him enough for that.

He sat in silence, idly stroking Bucky's legs and bare feet. He could hear Sam moving about in his bedroom across the apartment. Bucky was fast asleep, bare chest rising and falling with each breath. It was all so comforting and peaceful that Steve didn't feel himself nodding off too.

He was asleep by the time Sam headed out, ducking back in to say goodbye. Sam just smiled, and quietly left them to it.

 

Later, Steve was woken with a jolt to a dark apartment, wondering what on earth that weird noise was.

He looked about in alarm until he realised that the eerie, loud _honking_ sound was Bucky snoring. His head had shifted in sleep and clearly the position on the armrest was making him snore.

“Jeez.” Steve rubbed his eyes, listening for a moment. If 'whale mating call' was a type of snore, Steve had never heard it before. “You're one of a kind, pal,” he muttered, before patting Bucky's legs. “C'mon, let's go to bed, before we both get cricks in our necks.”

Bucky snored on.

“Buck.” Steve jiggled his legs in order to shake Bucky a bit. Not that he seemed to notice. “Deep sleeper,” Steve said, envious. He gazed at Bucky asleep, still mostly in awe that such a gorgeous guy wanted to spend his time with Steve.

This was like jumping feet first into a domestic status, and Steve may not have been used to it but he found he liked having Bucky at home with him.

“C'mon, Buck,” Steve said again. He went to stroke the underside of Bucky's feet to tickle him. Steve noticed how soft Bucky's feet were, which was surprising given that he seemed to favor walking barefoot. If he had lived on boats or islands until now, Steve would've expected him to have hard, callused feet.

 _Stop being weird_ , he told himself, _maybe he goes for pedicures or something._

That was a thing people did, right?

Steve tickled the baby-soft soles of Bucky's feet, which finally woke him up with a surprised grunt.

“C'mon, champ.” Steve moved Bucky's legs off and guided him to sit up. “Bed,” he ordered.

A half-asleep Bucky was pretty adorable. He hung onto Steve's arm as Steve walked them to his bedroom and got them into bed. He switched on the night light at his night-stand, which he'd normally feel embarrassed about showing to anyone else. Bucky didn't comment on it, he only stared up at the blue pattern projected on the ceiling as he snuggled into Steve's side.

They lay there quietly breathing together, holding each other. Steve stroked a hand through Bucky's hair, loose and so soft. He wanted to say something, but now he knew that Bucky understood at least some English, Steve kept second guessing himself.

Is that why communication is so hard? Steve thought.

Bucky stirred, perhaps he'd felt the tensing of Steve's muscles. He turned to Steve, angling his face to bring his lips closer. Steve kissed him gladly. Every time Bucky seemed to sense Steve was worried, he reassured him with kisses.

Who needed words after all?

They made out in bed, bodies warm and pressed together. The sheet was kicked away as the kiss grew heated. Steve's cock was hard as a rock, straining against his underwear. Bucky rolled onto his back, pulled Steve on top of him. He whimpered into Steve's mouth as they kissed, and Steve started grinding his erection into Bucky's, finding a rhythm that had them both gasping.

Bucky clung to Steve, threw his head back on the pillows as his hips thrust up at Steve to grind right back. Steve's mouth latched onto Bucky's throat and sucked on soft skin, leaving bruises in revenge for the hickeys he'd received. Steve meant to reach down and push their clothes away, but it all got too hot too quickly, and he was so close. Bucky was too, judging by the tensing of his body and the sounds he was making. Steve just went with it and sped up, grinding harder and faster, until they both reached their peak and were coming in their pants at the same time, mouths finding each other and kissing wetly.

Steve loved all the little noises Bucky made when he came, even just the sound of him breathless, Steve loved it.

When they'd caught their breath, Steve untangled himself enough to shove his shorts away and grab a towel from the chair. Bucky removed his pants too and Steve cleaned them up as best he could when Bucky seemed to be falling back asleep again.

“That pizza really knocked you out,” Steve said quietly, settling into bed once more, with Bucky flumping up against him. “No more loud snoring.” Steve stroked the hair off Bucky's damp forehead, wrapped his arms around him and looked up at the pattern on the ceiling from the night light.

So many nights he'd lain here alone, staring up at that light. Steve closed his eyes and held Bucky tight until he fell into a restful sleep.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve had always been an early riser, and it seemed Bucky was too. He woke Steve up by draping himself over him like a hot –and very hard and muscly-- blanket, sealing his mouth at Steve's throat and sucking a bruise to his skin.

By the time Steve woke up enough to realise, he knew it was too late. He groaned lightly, wrapped his arms around Bucky and rolled them. “Quit giving me hickeys,” he pleaded. “My team will have a field day.”

Bucky didn't answer, he was too busy wrapping himself around Steve and finding his mouth to kiss. Steve lost himself in kissing Bucky, lost himself in a private world where just the two of them existed. Bucky parted his legs to pull Steve closer, and Steve had to hold himself up or risk crushing Bucky under him. Bucky's strong thighs hooked around Steve as he gained leverage to rub their hard cocks together, hot and sweat damp from sleep. His even stronger arms snapped around Steve's shoulders and back. Bucky clung onto Steve and hummed in pleasure, while Steve rocked his hips back and forth, gasping at Bucky's neck. Bucky's long hair tickled Steve's face; he turned to breathe in air, and also reach for the lubricant.

When Bucky noticed what Steve tried to grasp for, he tightened his hold on Steve and half-rolled them to the side, allowing Steve to grab the lube with a chuckle.

“Thanks.” He gave Bucky a kiss on the lips before he moved to sit up, Bucky belatedly releasing him from his iron-like hold. “I feel like you could bench press my full weight if you wanted to,” Steve said, not really expecting a reply. Bucky's full attention was on getting laid, that much was obvious. He stayed as he was on his back, eyes tracking the lube in Steve's hands as he squirted some onto his fingers. Bucky spread his legs wide and pulled his knees up in invitation, his cock jutting out long and hard on his abdomen. He didn't touch himself, he raised his arms up over his head, finding the edge of the headboard to grip onto as he locked eyes with Steve and licked his lips.

He looked stunning like this, offering himself up to Steve so brazenly. Steve lost no time in bringing his lube-wet fingers to Bucky's ass, cheeks soft and warm, his tight entrance hot. Steve slipped one finger straight in and out, and in and out again, working the lube in, as his lover squirmed beneath him and pushed his hips down to take more.

Steve gave him two fingers, let Bucky ride on them as Steve stared at him, eyes roving all over his body. Bucky was pale everywhere, no tan lines. It wasn't at the forefront of Steve's mind, not really, but he'd noticed. The same way he'd noticed that Bucky didn't seem to have much body hair. Steve had even traced his fingers all along Bucky's skin when he'd first noticed that fact; Bucky's skin was silky smooth to the touch, much like his soft feet.

Really, when someone this hot wanted lots of uncomplicated sex with Steve, none of the little details mattered one bit.

Bucky's arms strained at the headboard, muscles tensing and his back arching beautifully as Steve fingered his ass harder, hooked his fingers to nail that sweet spot and make Bucky pant and whimper. “Right there, huh?” Steve murmured, keeping the pressure up. “You gonna come for me, gorgeous?”

His own cock was hard enough to pound nails, but Steve held out. He loved seeing Bucky like this, loved how he let Steve take care of him.

Bucky rocked his hips down onto Steve's fingers, impaling himself and twisting his pelvis for the best angle. Steve circled his fingers inside him, reached for Bucky's cock with his other hand and began to jerk him steadily. Bucky closed his eyes on a soft cry, his body tensing in the instant before his cock started pumping out thick white ropes of come. “That's it,” Steve coaxed, jerking him through it, milking him to draw it out.

Bucky gasped and heaved in deep breaths. Steve withdrew his fingers gently then, gaze fixed on Bucky's puckered entrance now shiny and wet with lube. Bucky kept his knees up, hands reaching down to make a grab for Steve and settling on his thighs before sliding up to his hips. With a firm grip, Bucky pulled Steve in by his hips, presenting his ass to Steve's cock.

Steve gladly pressed forward, quickly wiped the remaining lube from his hand onto his cock and giving himself a sharp tug, before lining up to Bucky's hole and pushing inside.

Bucky grunted softly, and pulled his knees up more to allow Steve closer. Steve bit his lip in order to keep some control, or he'd come too quickly. Bucky was tight but not unbearably so; his body gave to Steve's cock so perfectly. Steve inched in slowly, the lube nice and slick. He pushed deeper into that tight heat, deeper, all the way to the hilt. Bucky grabbed for Steve then, wrapping around him like a human trap and pulling Steve flush against him.

Steve went down, adjusting his position and leaning on his forearms. He'd kind of been expecting the rough and vigorous love-making of yesterday's session, but as Bucky held onto Steve now, he seemed more still and sleepy. That was fine, Steve really liked sleepy morning sex. He held himself up to get a purchase, as Bucky clung on, and started slowly thrusting his cock in and out, the slip and slide of flesh making a soft wet sound. Their chests bumped together like this, Steve's nipples sensitive as they brushed against Bucky's hard chest.

Steve tucked his face into the juncture of Bucky's neck and shoulder, biting his skin, breathing in his scent. Bucky hummed his ascent, grunting softly each time Steve thrust into him, deep and smooth thrusts, slowly gaining pace.

Steve held off as long as he could, fucking his lover sweet and slow, until the familiar burn of ecstasy threatened to take over.

“I'm close,” Steve groaned, the pressure inside him building steadily. He couldn't hold off much longer. Bucky slid his hands down Steve's back, fingers skimming down Steve's hips to dig into the meat of his buttocks, urging him on. Steve obeyed, picking up his pace to thrust harder and faster, smacking hard into Bucky's ass until his orgasm swept over him and he cried out with release. Bucky held him through it, holding tight and cradling Steve's body as he came down.

Steve breathed deep, drawing air into his lungs to get his breath back. “Oh, man,” he muttered, pulling out and rolling over to the side. He collapsed on his back, too spent to clean up. Steve flicked his eyes to the night-stand, checking the time.

 _Damn_. The clock was already ticking; he'd have to get up and get ready soon. What he wouldn't give to stay in bed with Bucky all day. All _week_.

Bucky rolled onto his side and shifted closer. Steve smiled at him and lifted an arm in invitation, letting Bucky curl into his side. Bucky raised up to press his lips to Steve's in a brief kiss, then he laid back on the pillow with a pleased smile. Steve watched his eyelids droop closed before Bucky turned to mash his face into the pillow.

Steve smirked. Bucky sure loved sleeping. They had a few minutes to spare, he could nap, Steve thought. He was pleased that Bucky seemed satisfied, and happy.

Or, Steve hoped he was happy.

Privately, Steve was relieved at the continued lack of small talk. The need to utter pleasantries or fill the silence simply wasn't there with Bucky.

Would it always be like this? Steve wondered. Or was this just lust? He didn't have much experience to base these assumptions on, but he couldn't help the thoughts. Was Bucky really going to stick around, or would this passionate affair be short-lived? For all Steve knew, Bucky may disappear as quickly as he'd arrived. Weren't flighty people prone to that sort of thing?

Ugh, Steve thought, there he went again with the worrying. He tried to ignore his thoughts, and pushed himself to get up.

“C'mon, Buck.” He pulled the covers off a sleepy Bucky, who wouldn't move from the bed. “Buck. We gotta get ready.” Steve went to tickle his feet, and this time the tickling elicited a laugh from Bucky; a deep, throaty laugh that made Steve's heart expand.

 _Shit_. He was in so deep with this guy.

Bucky drew his knees up to save his feet from being tickled. He raised his head from the pillows enough to meet Steve's gaze and smiled at him.

Steve swallowed. _Work_ , he told himself. He had to go to work. “Seriously, Bucky. We need to shower, dress, have breakfast. I need to be at HQ in less than an hour, and you have places to be too.”

Bucky pouted as Steve chased him out of the bed, and into the bathroom. They showered together, Steve thinking he could take charge of their timetable that way, but he soon realised he was kidding himself when faced with a soapy wet, naked Bucky who wanted to make out.

Steve gave in, his dick was doing his thinking for him, clearly eager to come in or on Bucky as much as physically possible.

When Steve had a day off, he'd have to see just how much his _physically_ _possible_ was exactly, but today he really had to be at work.

And he had to take Bucky to the beach.

Steve lost himself a few more precious minutes out of his schedule with the long make out session, and the soapy wet slide of their cocks. Bucky seemed more vocal in the shower, Steve noticed. Lots more groaning, and louder. The sounds echoed off the tiled walls and filled the space with Bucky's voice.

As long as he could make Bucky groan louder than the Goddamn pizza had, Steve was happy. He stroked them both off while Bucky remained clinging to his shoulder and mouthing at his neck in between moans. Steve had to twist his neck away now and then to put a stop to any more hickeys.

When they were done, he rinsed them both clean and urged Bucky to towel off. They were going to run out of time today. “Come on, Buck. Work with me here.” Steve hastily dried himself then did the same for the brunet, who seemed content to smile back and let Steve do all the work. “We really gotta go...”

“Yo, Steve!” Sam's voice came through the door. “That you in there?”

“Yeah!” Steve called back. “We'll be out in a sec!”

“ _We?_ ”

Steve winced. “Uh...”

“Y'know what, never mind,” Sam said in amusement, “I'll shower at headquarters. If you care to join me, I got breakfast started.”

“Thanks, Sam!” Steve rushed to finish getting ready. “I owe you one!”

“Yeah, and then some,” Sam replied as he walked away.

Steve got himself and Bucky dressed into beach shorts and t-shirts; brand new ones for Bucky that Steve had bought on the way home yesterday. Bucky seemed content enough to follow Steve's lead in putting on the clothes, but he wasn't in any hurry about it. Steve ushered him along and, once they were dressed, out of the bathroom. Bucky was smiling at Steve until the breakfast smells caught his attention, then he clearly let his nose and his stomach guide him to the kitchen, tugging Steve along with him.

Sam was cooking eggs, toast, and had coffee brewing. He started a little in surprise when Bucky stepped up beside him to peer at the eggs in the pan, then just huffed a laugh and elbowed him to step back.

“Sit yo' ass down,” he told Bucky, pointing at the table with his spatula. “Don't get in the way.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, so Sam added, “Sit, or no food,” and Bucky conceded to sit.

“Steve, coffee,” Sam instructed, as he began plating up the eggs.

They didn't have a lot of time to eat, and they were lucky in a way that eating was the one thing Bucky sped through. He had two helpings, prompting Sam to casually mention to Steve about stocking up their groceries.

Steve agreed; they were getting low on food with three of them eating. “I'll do it on my lunch hour if it's quiet enough.”

Sam stared at him. “Uh... didn't you get a message?”

“No?” Steve mumbled through his mouthful of food.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Have you checked your phone this morning?”

“Yeah, I...” Steve paused. He'd checked it before his shower.

But he hadn't checked it afterwards.

Steve cleared his throat as he got up from the table. “What's it about?”

Sam tried to hide his smile behind his coffee mug, but Steve saw it.

 _Oh. Shit_. Steve's heart thumped. He set his jaw, ready to face the music, and darted back to his room. In his work kit bag, he dug out his phone. Two new messages from Carol.

This was it, then. The outcome for his promotion. Breathing deep, Steve opened the first message.

 _I'm being stationed at HQ South_ , Carol had sent, _so they're officially promoting you at HQ Baywatch._ _Congrats, Lieutenant!_

Steve stared at the message, feeling overwhelmed and excited.

Finally.

He'd been acting lieutenant for nearly a month but without the increase in salary. Right now, his credit card would definitely appreciate the money.

He opened the second message.

 _Heads up for Fury, he's bound to check in on you later_.

Great, Steve thought. Everything all in one day. Although he was lucky that the chief hadn't stopped by yesterday to see Steve napping on the job.

Steve hurried to change out of his shorts and t-shirt, and into his lieutenant's uniform; tan shirt with the badges and epaulettes, trousers, and actual shoes instead of flip-flops. Steve packed his red lifeguard's shorts just in case. Lieutenants were coordinators and supervisors, so they weren't first in the water for rescues but any able body was back up on the beach.

Fully dressed, Steve returned to the kitchen, where Sam was guarding the coffee pot from Bucky. “Two cups is all you get,” Sam was in the middle of telling him, when they both turned to Steve. Sam grinned, nodding his head. “Yeah, man. About damn time.”

“Thanks.” Steve noticed Bucky was staring, and a slow smile spread over his face. Bucky hadn't seen Steve in his uniform yet; he'd changed before leaving HQ yesterday.

Before he could get too distracted by the look Bucky was giving him, Steve cleared his throat, checking his waterproof watch. “We better haul out. I gotta ask this favor of Bruce...”

“Good idea.” Sam got to his feet and clapped a hand onto Bucky's shoulder. “C'mon, man. We gonna drop you off with your new sitters for the day.”

“Sam.” Steve frowned at him.

“What?” Sam laughed. “Where is the lie?” Then he reached over to remove the coffee that Bucky was trying to steal. “Good luck, Bruce,” Sam muttered, turning to the sink to tip the coffee away.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky didn't understand why Steve and the other humans were always in such a hurry to go from occupying space and socialising in one place, to suddenly move off and do the exact same thing in another space. Why not minimise travel? Unless they were hunting for food, looking to mate or escape predators, none of their antics made much sense to Bucky.

He found himself jostled up from where he was comfortable, safe, and full of delicious food, to be marched outside and into the big machine that carried them. Bucky went along with it all to humor Steve. Humans had mechanical boats too, and it was interesting to sit in a land vehicle.

Steve sat up front with Sam, and drove them along a road, then into a busy intersection with lots more vehicles. Bucky settled into his seat in the back, gazing out the window at them all in the sun. He noticed their vehicle had cool air blowing over them, which smelled artificial to his nose.

Sam turned on a radio instrument to a voice talking about weather. Sam whistled. “Listen to those temps,” he said to Steve. “Gonna be hot today, man. Everyone gonna head to the beach.”

“And we'll be pulling them out like tuna,” Steve replied, driving them down the free-way. “When are those seasonal guards coming in?”

“Hill said today or tomorrow.”

Steve huffed in annoyance. “Tomorrow would be no help at all. Soon as we get to the hive, have Clint put out a call to all guards on our rota, especially part timers. Get as many extra hands in as we can.”

“On it,” Sam replied, using his handheld device. “Clint already replied to my text. He's at HQ now and said he'll call in the reinforcements.”

“How is it that Clint is at work before us?” Steve took them off the free-way and swung the vehicle into a parking lot, jerking to a stop.

Finally, Bucky could see the sea again. They were back at the beach.

“Then we better be quick dropping off our package,” Sam said to Steve, glancing over his shoulder at Bucky.

Bucky wasn't really paying much mind to the back and forth. As long as he was with Steve, everything was fine.

 

 

Once ushered onto the beach, Bucky followed after Steve and Sam at a leisurely pace. He had Wanda's sunglasses on and, using the glittery hair tie that little Cassie had gifted him yesterday, Bucky scooped his hair up securely. He wriggled his bare toes in the sand, warm on top but still cool under the surface, and he gazed out at the sea.

He should really go in soon and check on things. Maybe he could sneak away later. Bucky didn't want to miss out on more beach ball games, or whatever it was they were doing today. Maybe Steve would play with him this time.

There was a big vehicle further along the beach, which seemed to be smoothing the sand flat. Bucky stared at it, unsure why humans always wanted to have nature _just so_. Who combed an entire beach flat? Seriously.

“Bucky?” Steve said, drawing his attention. Bucky looked to Steve, who was reaching for his hand and smiling at him.

Bucky went to Steve, holding his hand for only a brief moment before Steve was presenting him to a group Bucky hadn't met before.

They'd approached an area on the beach that hoarded brightly coloured equipment. Jet skis, life jackets. Some funny shaped boats that Bucky hadn't seen before, and a small dinghy sat on the beach, being tended to by a brunet woman and a big blond man.

Bucky stared at the humans at the shoreline, so he wasn't paying attention as Steve guided him over to a little hut flanked by inflatable palm trees, to meet an older brunet man with glasses.

“Bruce, I have a huge favor to ask,” Steve began.

“How can I help?” The man named Bruce smiled in welcome.

“My friend here, Bucky, he really needs a part time job,” Steve said, “but his English isn't great...”

“Ah, I see.” Bruce nodded, holding out his hand to Bucky. “Hi, I'm Bruce. Nice to...” He paused when Bucky only stared at the proffered hand, until Steve nudged him to shake with him. “Er, nice to meet you.” Bruce shook awkwardly. “We, um, can certainly hire as a temp. See how it goes.”

“That's more than helpful,” Steve assured him. “I really owe you one.”

“No problem,” Bruce said, picking a clipboard up from the counter. “It's booked up solid today. We'll be busy, so an extra pair of hands would be welcome.”

“Steve!” The blond man called, striding over. “Sam! What may we do for you?” He shook their hands vigorously, grinning wide. He wore only beach shorts, the rest of his impressive physique on display, long blond hair hanging loose. He looked good, Bucky couldn't help but stare. He had a slight accent too.

Turning to Bucky, he held out his hand. “And who is this? Hello, good man, I am Thor.”

This time Bucky joined in the hand greeting with his full attention. “Bucky,” he said with glee.

Everyone else watched with interest. Steve's eyebrows drew together in a faint frown.

Steve had nothing to worry about, Bucky was only looking. He shot Steve a smile, just to make sure he knew that. Steve was his mate.

Then the woman came over, wearing a patterned sundress and a pair of large, white rimmed sunglasses.

“Oh, Darcy,” Bruce began, “come meet--”

“Yo, are those _Wanda's_ sunglasses?” Darcy exclaimed, planting herself right in front of Bucky.

Why was she _shouting?_ Bucky tipped his face down a little to peer at the woman over the rims of his glasses.

Darcy peered right back. “Oh, my God, they are!” she insisted. “We shopped for them together! Don't think I wouldn't recognise them! So are you dating or what? There's hickeys all over your neck, dude. Was it Wanda? C'mon, spill.”

Bucky wasn't sure how to respond to that barrage of over enthusiasm, but then Steve leaned in and replied shortly, “ _No_ , Darcy, you're way off. Wanda simply leant the glasses to him yesterday, that's all.”

“Oh!” Darcy took a step back and lifted her sunglasses in order to assess Steve up and down. “Well, hello, officer!” she teased. “I haven't seen you in this get up before, Steve. Looking pretty fly for a white guy.”

Steve blushed and mumbled a thank you, while Sam smothered a chuckle. “C'mon, Lieutenant.” Sam nudged Steve. “Can't hang out here all day. As much as we'd love to.”

“Uh, actually...” Steve turned to Thor. “We really need as many extra guards as possible today, especially veterans. Any chance you could take a tower?”

“Of course!” Thor declared, smiling once again. “A pleasure to step in and serve once more!”

“Great!” Steve seemed relieved. “Thank you, we're calling in other part timers as well. Want to ride to the hive with us?”

“Lead the way!”

They began to walk off, and Bucky didn't realise he was being left until Steve glanced at him and added quietly, “I'll try check in on you if I can get out on the sand, but otherwise I'm stuck inside all day. It'll be real boring for you, and being on the beach here with Darcy and Bruce will be more fun.”

Bucky blinked back at him in surprise. Steve was leaving him again? Bucky reached for Steve's arm and held on tight as he searched his blue eyes.

Steve shifted awkwardly, seemingly aware that his friends were watching them. “Look, it won't be for long,” he said softly. Bucky still didn't let go.

Didn't Steve understand? Bucky had come up on land to watch over Steve, how was he supposed to do that if Steve kept disappearing on him?

“Steve,” Sam said, “we gotta go.”

“Please, Bucky,” Steve urged. “Please stay here with Bruce and Darcy. I'll come by later, okay?”

Bucky frowned at him as Steve wriggled out of his hold, and retreated.

“Later,” Steve repeated, walking backwards. “You stay _here._ ” Steve gestured to the sand.

Beside Bucky, Darcy snorted in disbelief. “What are you, his dog?”

Bucky frowned harder. This situation wasn't ideal, he thought, as he watched his mate hurry away from the beach with Sam and Thor in tow.

Not ideal at all.

“Aw, don't pout!” Darcy patted his back, then pulled him back to their little hut. “I'm sure we'll have way more fun than they will.”

“Depends on his definition of fun,” Bruce said dryly, looking up from his clipboard at Bucky. “Lots of high school kids today. Got bookings in all the way through to the afternoon. The good news is, we only take sixteen or over. The bad news is... Well, there's lots of teenagers today.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He hadn't understood any of that.

“Raging hormones,” Darcy clarified. “Lots of noise and bickering, basically.”

Bucky gave her a look as realisation dawned. _Young, noisy humans._

Oh, he thought.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“So, then Steve's all, 'what? He's _naked?_ ' And drives off at the speed of light,” Clint recounted as he reclined in the swivel chair. Coulson sat next to him at the control desk while Nat, Wanda, Pietro and Scott all crowded in. T'Challa had stopped by to swap out his radio, and he lingered too.

“They had to put the guy in an over sized t-shirt,” Clint explained. “Right?” He directed at T'Challa.

T'Challa hmmed absently, and carried on his set up.

Duty call was at eight sharp, but Clint wasn't in any hurry. “Sam said Steve rushed in here,” Clint carried on with the story, “and as soon as they saw each other it was instant dry humping.”

Coulson nearly choked on his cup of coffee, while Pietro snorted a laugh.

“T'Challa?” Clint pressed. “Right? Was it more dry humping or--”

“Clint,” T'Challa interrupted calmly, “I already told you, I don't care.”

“Pshh, everyone cares about gossip,” Clint scoffed back. “This is gold. I haven't had this much fun in ages.”

“Eyes front,” Coulson said, checking his phone, “Sam says they just pulled up.”

“Awesome!” Clint sprung into action, picking up a coiled party streamer. “Team, go!” He ducked and rolled under the desk, as Pietro grabbed a streamer and followed his lead.

Wanda and Nat just hid their streamers in hand, and waited casually at the desk as if everything were normal. Scott wasn't sure what was going on, and T'Challa leant against the desk patiently to wait it out.

“Here they come,” Coulson whispered, then said louder, “Steve, Sam! Good morning.”

“Hey, Phil,” Steve's voice greeted. “Have you seen--”

“Congratulations!” Clint shouted, rearing up and releasing his paper streamer into the air. Pietro and the others released their streamers with a cheer, while other guards who were in the office caught on and started clapping. Steve stilled in wide-eyed surprise, as Sam laughed hard. “Congrats on the promotion, man.” He clapped Steve's shoulder. “Like, finally.”

Steve looked genuinely taken aback. “Uh... thank you,” he said, hands on hips as he laughed in relief. “Wow! What a wake up call.”

“I've been itching to do that for weeks!” Clint admitted. “Okay, people!” he called to the team, “party's over! Retract those streamers! Duty call in t-minus thirty minutes.”

With a lightning fast clean up, it was straight down to business with the morning huddle, headed by Steve. Nothing new there, Steve had already been acting lieutenant for a while, but having it made official had to feel good for the guy. Clint was proud.

Thor joined them, having changed into the regulation lifeguard's beachwear, with his hair tied back. All the other rota'd guards showed up, filling the relatively small main room as they went through their roll call and awaited assignments for the day.

It didn't look like they'd be getting their seasonal guards yet, so they had to make do with who they already had.

“Your duty assignments are with Phil,” Steve addressed the team as he handed off the lists. “It's gonna be a busy day, so we've put a call out for extra guards. Until then, help each other out. Veterans, assist rookies when needed. I'm calling in the junior guards over lunch to help us watch the water. I want to see preventions, people, and keen eyes. Let's have a safe day, everyone.”

Clint clapped his hands in applause, mostly to irk Steve. “Rousing first speech, Lieutenant.”

“Don't make me write up a discipline on my first day,” Steve replied. Stepping close to the control desk, he set the jaw of determination on Clint and anyone who lingered. “Just make sure Fury thinks the best of us today.”

“Aw, he coming down?” Pietro complained.

“Just assume he's already watching you,” Coulson warned, before swivelling around to power up the radio station.

“Because that's not creepy at all,” Sam said. “We got this anyway. Just another crazy day for Baywatch.”

“Hopefully with less naked people on the beach,” T'Challa said in passing, while keeping a mostly straight face.

Steve glared after him as Clint laughed heartily. “And where is your notorious nudist?” Clint asked Steve. “Does he need clothes? We could do a collection here at the hive--”

“Clint,” Steve said in warning, “I wasn't kidding about discipline. When we're on duty we need to be focused.”

Clint smirked, then checked his watch. “Shift starts in fifteen. Figure I got at least ten minute's worth of giving you a hard time.”

“Forget it.” Steve turned and marched off to the back office.

“Over lunch, then?” Clint called after him.

Steve shut his door.

 

~ ~ ~

 

A couple hours in, and Bucky was struggling. It was just... this Darcy woman, she talked _really_ fast. She used words that Bucky didn't understand; like what in the seven seas was a _face book_? Darcy had said it when she'd pointed her handheld device at Bucky as he'd stood shirtless, hands on hips and frowning. She'd said something about tagging Steve, except when Bucky had looked from left to right, he hadn't seen Steve anywhere in sight. Darcy had laughed at that. A lot.

Bucky didn't understand what was so funny.

And most of all, he didn't get why he'd been dumped here with acquaintances of Steve's while Steve went off somewhere in that... really _hot_ clothing ensemble of his, to do things without Bucky. Were they important things? What if they were _dangerous_ things? Bucky was sure he still felt Steve's presence nearby, now he was more attune to him; Steve wasn't much more than a couple miles along this very beach, and he most definitely wasn't in the water.

No, if Steve was in the water, Bucky would feel his presence clearly.

So... Steve was safe? He supposed, and on land. While Bucky was left to himself and the whims of others.

Darcy appeared, snapping her fingers at him. “Hey, space cadet, wake up, okay? We got a million things to do...”

She sounded agitated. Bucky turned slowly to look at her, tried to fathom what she was saying at a rate of knots.

“...so get your ripped self over to the banana boat,” she pointed across the sand, “and start helping our paying customers into their life jackets.”

Bucky looked to where Darcy was pointing at the shoreline, where one of the... giant bananas... waited.

Yeah, humans were odd.

The banana bobbed in the shallows, tethered, awaiting its next load of passengers. The bananas were towed back and forth over the water by the small motor boats, and Bucky didn't get this pastime at all, because the passengers who got on the banana all bounced off rather spectacularly when it hit high speeds.

And, all the passengers were young and very, very noisy.

Bucky frowned, and turned back to Darcy.

“Look,” she huffed, frowning right back at him, “do you want this job or not? You gotta help us out here! Steve poached Thor, so there's no one but you for all these straight girls to lust after.”

Looking up from his clipboard, Bruce smiled wryly. “Thanks, Darce.”

Darcy threw her hands up. “Well, then, take your shirt off, Bruce. See if any of them are into the dad look.”

“Thanks, again.” Bruce glanced over at the next group of female humans, waiting in line at the shore, chattering excitedly and flicking their hair. “I'll pass.”

“Then tell Steve's boy toy to do some damn work!” Darcy snapped.

“Whoa, hey,” Bruce said soothingly, “I know it's a busy day, but we can get through this.”

“Bruce, it's not even ten yet, and I need a break.”

Bucky took a careful step back from the pair. Raised voices put him on edge. He didn't understand what the issue was; surely these beach activities were for play? Where was the urgency about herding humans onto bananas? He didn't understand.

He took a few more steps back, almost at the shoreline.

“Hey, it's the new guy!” A younger girl squealed. “New guy! Hey!” She waved.

“Can you help me with my life jacket?” another called to him.

Bucky stilled, wary. He'd never been among so many young and... _shrill_ people at once. When the first group of the morning had run down the beach toward him, Bucky had instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, only to be elbowed by Darcy and reprimanded. Bucky understood to some extent that he was filling a position here to aid these humans in their pastime, but... for how long?

And why couldn't he be with Steve?

All these strangers made Bucky nervous. He looked back to Bruce and Darcy, who'd noticed he was edging away.

“Well?” Darcy challenged him, once again pointing to the banana boat. “Go sort out the next group, Buck-o!”

Bucky made a face. He didn't want to be here, and he definitely didn't want to be near another group of young humans shouting, chatting and occasionally _pawing_ at him like they were looking for a mate.

Bucky stepped back into the water. It felt cool and welcoming, the sand below was wet and soft on the soles of his feet. Bucky's skin shivered, anticipating being in the water again, and changing.

Yeah, he really wanted to leave. He needed to be in the water right now; have some peace. He took a step back through the water, and another, watching the humans in case they gave chase.

Darcy's mouth dropped open. “Um, excuse you!” she called. “There's no time to take a dip! Get your ass back to work!”

Bucky backed away, deeper. The water lapped at his knees.

“Bucky?” Bruce said with concern. “Are you okay?”

Bucky understood the question, so he nodded and waved in response. Hopefully they'd understand. Then he turned his back on them and quickly began wading out deeper.

“Aw, where's he going?” Darcy shouted. “I don't believe this!”

Bucky didn't hang around, but he didn't change yet, he wouldn't until he was safe. He dove forward into the shallows with a splash, then swam on at a steady speed, arms pointed forward to cut through the water as his legs kicked.

“Bucky!” Bruce was calling, but Bucky didn't hear. He kept swimming out, until he could get to a safe distance.

 

Back on the beach, Darcy jerked a thumb out at the water. “Um, what?” she said to Bruce, who was watching Bucky swim further and further away.

“I'd better take the dinghy and go after him,” Bruce said in disbelief.

“Really?” Darcy scoffed. “Or maybe you should just call Steve and tell him his boy swam off on us.”

Bruce paled. “Uh... Let's try bring him in ourselves before we panic.”

“And how do we do that, Bruce? Throw a net over him?” Darcy shook her head. “We're not lifeguards, let the pro's deal with that. Call Baywatch.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) feel free to leave comments, they feed my soul <3
> 
> Coming next, will Steve have to go catch his merman? :p 
> 
> ~ 
> 
> Thank you to my beta readers, kittyinapot and stuck_in_stucky <3
> 
> Thanks to [Baywatch](https://youtu.be/mu1WQMC5bp0) and [Splash](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQyWVxeukv0) for the inspiration!


	3. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

Steve made his way downstairs, print-out sheet in hand. With extra guards showing up throughout the morning, he'd been assigning them towers or rescue boats depending on their level of experience. They were still short, but hopefully they'd keep the beach safe today.

Apparently a couple more part-time guards had drifted into headquarters, and Steve needed to get a coffee from the break room anyway. He glanced at the coed showers as he walked past the locker-room; someone was showering on the men's side, no one visible on the women's. They all kept their swimsuits on when showering, as it was open plan.

Stepping into the men's side of the locker-room, Steve raised his voice to call out, “Hey, anyone need assignments, I'm just grabbing a coffee and be back upstairs in a minute.”

A couple voices echoed back affirmatives, so Steve pressed on. Passing the weights and rec area on his way, Steve saw T'Challa limping out of the first aid room. “What happened?” Steve couldn't see an obvious injury; T'Challa was still in his beach sergeant's uniform of blue shirt, navy shorts, and boots.

“Sand,” T'Challa grumbled. “Once it's in boots, blisters.”

“Oh,” Steve replied. “Is that all?”

T'Challa gave Steve a flat look, then looked down at Steve's boots. “I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, Lieutenant.”

“Can't wait.” Steve smiled. “By the way, I didn't... er, get to thank you properly yet.”

T'Challa raised his eyebrows in question.

“For the other day,” Steve explained. “Making sure that Bucky was okay, I mean.”

“Ah.” T'Challa's lips twitched up at the corners. “My pleasure, Steve. But I hope next time he will be clothed.”

Steve's face burned hot. “Why would there be a next time?” he argued, avoiding the comment about clothing, or Bucky's lack of them when he'd arrived.

T'Challa gave Steve a look that told him they both knew there'd likely be a next time.

“He'll be fine,” Steve replied shortly, and quickly turned away so he didn't have to deal with this conversation.

“Let us hope so,” T'Challa said as he walked away too.

Steve got to the kitchenette in the break room, and closed his eyes as he counted backward from ten. There was no point in arguing with his beach sergeant over this. They had to work together. Steve just hoped people would stop bringing it up.

It wasn't that Steve was embarrassed about Bucky's... nude arrival. Well, not because of Bucky, or how he looked. God, no. Bucky was gorgeous, and the others were only jealous.

No, it was more that Steve felt uncomfortable having so much attention on him and his love-life. He'd avoided having one for years, now suddenly he was slap-bang in the middle of a red hot affair, and his team-mates knew all the details.

It was a lot to take in.

Steve opened his eyes, grabbed his mug and, tucking his assignment sheet under his arm, hastily poured himself a cup of no frills, black filter coffee. If he could just get through today, he thought, as he took a grateful sip of coffee, things would get easier, surely. The team would find someone else to gossip about soon.

He raised his cup for another sip, just as a voice said, “Hello, Steve.”

 _Sharon_.

Steve started in surprise, and spilled coffee down his front before he could right himself. It was hot, and it made dark blobs on his clean, tan shirt. “Shit,” he muttered, as Sharon swooped in and pressed a dry towel to his chest.

“Sorry,” she said, patting at the coffee stain then looking up at him with a smile. “Didn't mean to surprise you. I should've remembered you're jumpy in the mornings.”

“Uh...” Steve floundered, looking down at her. He couldn't believe she was here at Baywatch, and everything came rushing back to him as he looked at her face; their short lived affair, their disagreements, the fights.

“Uh... yeah,” Steve managed, stepping back to get some space. A quick glance at his shirt told him it was a wreck. Much like him, really. “H-hi,” he tried again. “Wow, it's... it's been a long time.”

“Two years.” Sharon dropped the towel and leaned against the counter. She gave Steve a warm smile. “Not that long, really. Not in our line of work.”

Steve smiled wryly. “Maybe not, but I'm not in the army any more.”

“No, you're not,” Sharon agreed quietly. Career choices had been one of their major differences, in the end. “But I won't hold that against you.”

“Don't tell me you left too?” Steve teased.

“Not a chance.” She chuckled. “But I have made some changes. I'm here visiting my folks. Then Clint's message came through about guards for today. Figured while I was here, I'd put in the required time to keep my license.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve nodded along, still mostly in shock that she was here in front of him. “When did you get in?” he asked, although he wasn't sure why that mattered.

“Just yesterday.” She fixed him with a look, still smiling. “Seems like fate.”

Steve smiled to be polite, while his internal panic alarm started ringing. “Well... I'll, uh... I'll give you a tower, if that's all right? We really need the help today.”

“Sure,” she agreed, as Steve went through his assignment sheet.

“Tower twenty-seven,” he said, which made Sharon laugh. “What?” he asked.

“Trying to keep me at arm's length?” she said.

Steve blinked at her. “I... no, it's... there's too many towers taken by rookies, and–”

“Steve, I was kidding. Relax.”

“Okay.” He wasn't relaxed at all.

“You on until six?”

“Yeah,” he said, “at least.”

“Take me to dinner after?” Sharon asked.

“Uh...”

“We got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah...” Steve's internal alarm was joined by a klaxon. “Sure.”

“And we are overdue a conversation,” Sharon pointed out, much to Steve's dread.

“Right,” he said, facing this head on, determined. “You're right. We can get dinner. Um... but if tonight doesn't work...”

Surprise flitted over Sharon's face briefly before she masked it with that carefully neutral look she tended to give everyone, including Steve; guarded, never giving much away.

Steve, on the other hand, was certain that his face was an open book right now, one that she could no doubt read.

“You have plans?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Steve saw no point in lying. He never lied, he just... liked his privacy. “Rain-check?” They needed to have a conversation at some point; have closure and move on. Closure would be good. Clear the air.

Hopefully.

“You're here for ten days, right?” he asked. Ten days service per annum was the standard for lifeguards who wanted to stay registered with County.

“Maybe even longer,” she said, somewhat cryptic. She smiled at him again, then made to move. “Guess I'll see you later.”

“Yes. Sure.” Steve aimed for pleasant. “Of course.”

“You may want to change your shirt,” she added –fussing over uniform again, he thought– as she reached out to brush her fingers over his chest. An overly familiar gesture, and Steve tensed.

“Thanks.” He tried to appear at ease. There was nothing between them any more, but they could still be friends.

Friends who were close, it seemed.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Sharon said as she made to go.

“Thanks,” Steve said again. “I'll, uh... see you later.”

She smiled over her shoulder as she walked away. She was only wearing a red bathing suit, not unusual for lifeguards, but it wasn't helping Steve focus right now.

He tried not to think about the encounter; pushed her to the back of his mind, as he refilled his coffee mug and headed back upstairs, to the relative safety of the main office.

Somewhere there had to be a spare lieutenant's shirt, and hopefully it would fit Steve.

When he stepped into the main office, the control desk was abuzz.

“Major code three!” Clint called to Steve, as he monitored the board. “Multiple vics in water, caught in rip-tide.”

Coulson was talking into his headset, no doubt coordinating the rescue boats. Steve abandoned his coffee, rushing back to position at the desk. “How many guards are wet?”

“We got...” Clint glanced at the board, lights blinking where guards had left their towers. “Five reported.”

“Rescue boats on scene?”

“One present, Scott and Hope already there in Scarab Two,” Clint reported.

“Scarab Three is headed there now,” Coulson said, looking to Steve.

Steve nodded. Hopefully the situation was contained, with no casualties. Now he just had to fight his urge to rush down there himself in the jeep to help. By the time he'd get there, the guards stationed at the scene would've pulled the victims in anyway, so he should stay put. Steve slowed his breathing in a bid to remain calm. “Radio all towers,” he instructed, “remind them it's black flags up. No surfing, and definitely no inflatables in the water.”

“Will do.” Clint picked up the handheld radio for the towers to relay the order.

“Did you jog here with your coffee?” Coulson asked, distracting Steve from the situation.

Steve glanced at where Coulson nodded to his front, remembering he had coffee splotches on his shirt. “Uh... Something like that.” Steve paid it no mind. He would change when there was a lull.

Or not, he thought, as another part of the board lit up.

Not every incident was major, but all demanded attention and supervision. Steve was lucky he had a good team.

Clint continued to coordinate the rescue for the code three, while Coulson took a new call. Steve kept his eyes on the board and the mainline phone, which blinked whenever a call came in. Coulson took calls and patched them through to the relevant teams, but when more lights started blinking, Steve picked up a headset. “Baywatch, go ahead,” he said.

“This is Tower Twelve,” Melinda stated, “requesting divers asap. One vic possibly underwater, male.”

“Any sighting?” Steve was already pressing the button to contact the rescue boat. “I'll get Namor and Toro to you.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Melinda said. “Nothing confirmed yet. Male went into the water, dived under, hasn't been seen since. Mr. Banner is already out there in a dinghy with a guard, but no sightings of him.”

“Wait, Bruce Banner?” Steve questioned, just as the rescue boat picked up and he instructed to them, “Scarab Four, this is Hive. Tower Twelve requesting divers ASAP. One male vic, possibly underwater. Over.”

“Ten one, Hive,” Namor's voice replied. “On our way. Over.”

Steve's skin prickled, and dread settled in his gut. “Melinda,” he asked her, “who's the vic?”

Melinda was quiet a beat, then answered, “Your friend, Bucky.”

Steve swore under his breath.

“We'll find him, Steve,” Melinda said. “By all accounts he's a strong swimmer.”

Steve exhaled shakily. “Yeah... Okay, Melinda, thanks. Please keep me posted.”

“Roger that.”

Steve terminated the call, already connecting a new call to the county rescue chopper. “Air Rescue, this is Hive. What's your status? Over.”

“Ten one, Hive,” Peter replied jovially, “your guardians of the beach are just headed to your code three, be there in under five!”

Steve didn't bring Peter up on his radio chat, they'd already had that talk. “Air Rescue, once the code three is contained, I need you to back up Scarab Four at Tower Twelve in a possible dive and rescue, urgently. Over.”

“Copy that,” Peter answered. “We'll be there soon as we can. Over and out.”

Steve ended the call, telling himself that sending the rescue chopper was quicker and more efficient at finding Bucky than he'd ever be on his own.

He told himself that repeatedly and tried not to crawl out of his skin with worry. Clint and Phil were still coordinating calls. The code three seemed successfully contained with no casualties, but their board was still lighting up. Steve had to deal with every situation and coordinate the rescues here.

There was absolutely no way he could rush off to Tower Twelve and the jetty to search for Bucky. Absolutely no way.

But he was going to anyway.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Once he was able to dive, Bucky's skin rippled over with soft, pearly scales. This was how he regulated his temperature in the cool water. He didn't change form just yet, there were still humans nearby, mostly zipping about on small motorised boats and skis on the surface. Underwater, it was peaceful. Bucky listened for anyone calling him, but all seemed quiet. No marine life in distress nearby.

He swam on, over coral reefs through the shallow waters, and further out to small forests of green kelp. Bucky liked to brush against the kelp as he passed, it tickled his scales and felt nice. Oh, how he'd missed swimming! Land was so noisy and busy, but underwater was serene.

Bucky touched his hands to rocks and reef-tips as he passed, checking them over. If he saw any broken parts or struggling life, he touched his hands to whatever plant or creature needed help, and brought them back to strength. He'd never questioned how or why he could perform this, but he felt that he was around to help look after other things, whatever those things may be.

Including stubborn blonds who fell into his patch of water, he remembered with a smile.

Then he blew out a stream of bubbles in resignation. He hoped Steve was all right up there. Bucky would have to search for him again later today.

He swam on, dodging human divers with those ridiculous tanks and masks attached to them. He zipped behind reef outcroppings and dived deeper, into small tunnels of rock and expansive gardens of coral, all teaming with small fish and plants.

This area was attractive to human divers, and this was exactly why Bucky hadn't changed form yet. There were always too many humans around these days, especially closer to shore. The silhouettes of their boats lurked on the surface.

Bucky swam by a group of reef sharks, holding his hand out in invitation if any wanted to approach. Two did, cutting through the water toward him. Bucky stilled, hands out and palms up. The small sharks nosed gently at his hands, brushing against him. Bucky stroked them gently, checking their smooth skin. They were content. All was well.

A third shark swam up and nosed at Bucky's shoulder. He turned to grin, and offer this shark a hand to rub against, when Bucky noticed bubbles from behind a rock. He watched, sensing human presence. When more bubbles and a human shape came into view, Bucky knew he had to move on. He tried his best not to linger when humans were around. Not all of them were trustworthy. The sharks dispersed too.

This time Bucky swam out further, away from any nearby humans. He shucked off the material shorts he'd been wearing, thrilled to finally be free of their constraints. He placed them under a loose rock he passed, with half a mind to come back this way later and retrieve them.

Now he could really swim. Bucky pointed his arms away from shore, stretched his body and closed his eyes. His legs pressed tightly together, Bucky used his core muscles to dolphin-kick and cut through the water, faster and faster. He willed the change to happen, but it still took time. The hidden gills at his neck opened as he breathed in deep, and felt the shudder of the change start at the base of his spine, tingling over his skin and growing.

The change was painless, but it wasn't exactly... easy. Bucky had to concentrate, push through the slight discomfort and chase the feeling until it took over all on its own, not unlike an orgasm. His body tensed as the change crept in.

Swimming helped, and he pushed on harder as his scales burst out finally, shuddering over his skin and melding his legs into a strong blue and silver tail, with filmy blue fins at the tip and on his back. Bucky breathed in relief, his body relaxing again.

 _Finally_.

Now he could really swim.

He moved his tail rhythmically, powering through the water with ease. He was at his strongest like this, and his most playful. Now all he needed were some playmates.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Steve headed to the locker-room, in a rush to find another shirt. There should've been spares to hand; lifeguards always had extra laundry. He rifled through the lieutenant's locker, but unfortunately the only clean shirts available appeared to be in women's sizes. Steve grabbed the largest one and hoped for the best. He didn't care about the shirt, but Fury would. All that was on Steve's mind was Bucky. Was he in danger? Or...

Or had he left?

Steve gritted his teeth as he hastily unbuttoned his coffee stained shirt, a button sent flying as he tugged too hard. Discarding the shirt in the hamper, Steve stood topless in the empty locker-room, and set about pulling on the clean shirt. One arm in, and he realised it was a little snug. He persevered, and gently eased the material over his broad shoulders.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, pulling for the buttons to meet. The shirt fit around his waist okay, but it was a struggle to button it over his chest.

Peering down at himself, Steve didn't notice someone else walk in, until they cleared their throat and said, “Been working out, Steve?”

He looked up to see Maria Hill, his captain, watching him with a smile. Steve was at a loss, shirt mostly open and his chest on display. It wasn't anything Hill or any of the team hadn't seen before, it just felt a bit... _exposing_.

Steve nodded, despite his embarrassment, and tried to sound professional when he greeted her. “Captain Hill.”

Her smile remained, not giving anything away. She'd never told him to call her anything but her official title when on duty, not even back when they'd dated briefly.

“What's the problem?” she asked.

An image of Bucky swam through Steve's mind, but he had to push it aside. “Problem?” he echoed.

“With your shirt.” She nodded at him. “It's clearly too small.”

“Uh... yes,” Steve agreed, “but there's no other sizes, and mine had a mishap.”

“Hm.” Maria strode in, and without preamble she leaned close to Steve, peered behind his neck to look at the shirt's collar, checking the label. “Steve, you won't fit in that. I have the next size up in my locker, it may just cover you.”

Steve tried not to blush as he removed the too-small shirt, and waited for Hill to hand him another. Hopefully his embarrassed flush was only on his face, not spreading down his neck and onto his chest like it tended to do.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, pulling on the new shirt. It was still a tight fit but the buttons met –only just– one by one. Steve glanced up to see Hill was still watching him, but she quickly averted her eyes and strode out of the room.

“See you up top,” she called back.

Steve finished buttoning himself in. The shirt was tight, and the buttons strained, but it would have to do. He wasn't going to waste a second longer on this. He hurried back upstairs, through the main room and to the control desk. Fury was there with Hill, standing with his back to Steve.

Steve approached. He'd only stepped away for three, four minutes max. “Chief,” he greeted Fury, stepping up to the desk. “Update?” he asked his team.

Eyes turned to him, all taking in his tight shirt and _lingering_ on his chest. Coulson did a double take. Clint seemed amused by it, making Steve feel self-conscious.

Even Fury was giving him a look.

“Busy day,” the chief commented, assessing Steve coolly.

“Yes, Sir,” Steve answered. _Stating the obvious, Sir,_ he wanted to add, but he didn't want to press his luck. He had a battle to pick soon, and nothing else mattered, so he wasn't about to sass his chief.

“Code three is contained,” Clint reported from the desk, “and Air Rescue is en route to tower twelve now.”

“Dive team?” Steve leaned in, checking the light up board to quickly assess operations. He hadn't meant to lean quite so close to Clint's eye level, shirt straining over his chest right where Clint's face was. Clint blinked, momentarily distracted before he replied.

“Uh, already there, at vic's last sighting, and about to go under.” Clint moved his wheely chair aside and raised an eyebrow at Steve, but Steve was already moving to pick up the radio.

“KMF two-nine-five,” he said into the radio, “Scarab Four, this is Hive. What's your status? Over.”

“Ten-one, Hive, this is Scarab Four,” Toro's voice replied. “Frogmen going in now. Over.”

Steve's heart thudded. The divers were there. If Bucky was underwater, they'd get to him.

Never mind that there'd been no further sightings or trace of the man. Steve prayed that Bucky wasn't trapped underwater.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Roger that,” he said. “Report in every fifteen. Over.”

After Toro's affirmative, Steve held onto the radio and tried to will his brain to think positive.

It wasn't until Clint edged back in and said softly, “We'll find him, Steve,” that he realised he was zoning out.

Hill had noticed. “Problem?” she asked.

 _Well, this is it_ , Steve thought. He had a battle to pick.

“My, uh... my partner... he... he...” _Dammit_. Saying it out loud made Steve feel even more helpless. His throat constricted, his chest tight. He tried to breathe deep and even, always worried his asthma would suddenly return and cut off his air. “If the divers don't find him,” Steve said firmly, “I want to take a boat and look myself.”

Hill looked faintly surprised. Fury looked impassive, which made Steve mad. But before he could gear up to argue his case, Fury repeated, “Partner?”

“Yes, Sir,” Steve replied, steel in his voice.

“I presume you mean partner as in, romantic and next of kin,” Fury clarified, “and not partner as in, business associate?”

“I... Yes, my boyfriend.”

Fury nodded, resigned. “If it wasn't next of kin circumstance, then I'd expect you to stay at your station,” he told Steve seriously. “The chain of command here is important, Lieutenant.”

“Yessir,” Steve answered, stunned.

Was Fury agreeing so readily?

“I'll cover here if you need to go,” Hill offered. “But wait for the first report from dive and rescue.”

“Yeah, and the chopper might spot him first,” Clint chimed in.

“Okay,” Steve agreed. That was a strategy. The vice grip on his lungs eased minutely, and he breathed as best he could. “Clint, radio Air Rescue and tell them to be on the look out. There's a chance Bucky isn't underwater, he could be on the surface.”

“Roger that.” Clint turned to the radio to relay the order.

Fury was eyeballing Steve. “How did this happen?”

“I don't know,” Steve admitted. “He was by tower twelve. Apparently he swam out from the beach. His English isn't... Maybe he didn't understand.”

“We'll find him,” Coulson said.

Steve nodded grimly. He knew that finding a lost swimmer didn't always mean they'd still be alive. Reckless swimmers got caught in rip-tides or undercurrents and could drown before anyone realised they were missing. This was the ocean, it was _dangerous_.

Don't think like that, Steve ordered himself. Think positive. Bucky was clearly a strong swimmer, and the team would find him.

 

The air in the office grew more and more tense as they waited for news from Namor's dive team. Coulson and Hill dealt with any new calls coming in, overseen by Fury, while Steve waited anxiously beside Clint.

“It'll be okay, Steve,” Clint said again.

Finally his radio crackled. “Ten-one, Hive, this is Scarab Four,” came Toro's voice. “Over.”

“Ten-one, go ahead,” Clint said into the radio.

“Stand by...” Toro said.

Steve tensed, waited. He prayed they'd found Bucky, alive.

The radio crackled again, then Namor's voice said, “I found a swimsuit, but no sign of anyone yet. Over.”

_A swimsuit...?_

Immediately, Steve's mind cut to worse case scenarios. Before Clint could reply, Steve was grabbing the radio to speak into it. “Scarab Four, I need more details. Over.”

“Ten-two, Hive. South east side of coral gardens,” Namor's voice crackled, “spotted a pair of shorts; coloured, check pattern. Placed under a rock. No other sign, nobody in vicinity. Over.”

Steve didn't understand.

Clint's eyebrows scrunched in a frown as he looked at Steve. “Placed, how?”

Prompted to ask, Steve said to the radio. “Namor, define 'placed'. Over.”

The radio crackled, but Steve still heard Namor's cut off complaint, “Did I not speak English?” before he reported, “Ten-three. Placed, like someone had deliberately placed a large rock over the shorts on the sea bed, not to conceal but to keep them in that spot, I can only assume.”

“No sign of any swimmers?” Steve asked, too stressed to use any radio call signs.

“None yet,” Namor replied. “I'm going back in to keep searching. Over.”

“Roger,” Steve said, “report back. Over and out.” He handed the radio to Clint, who was waiting on Steve, expectant.

“So?” he asked. “Are those your boy's shorts, or what?”

Steve placed his hands on his hips, lest he start wringing them. “Yes, I'm pretty sure.”

“Okay,” Clint said, leaning back in his seat, face carefully neutral. “Well... look at it this way, if he put his swimsuit there for a reason, it suggests he plans to come back for them.”

Steve nodded, an idea forming. “That island you picked me up from, it was Santa Inez, right?”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “You think he's gone back there?”

“I think I need to go check it out,” Steve decided. “I'll take a wave-runner if I have to.”

“Air Rescue could get there faster,” Hill pointed out.

“Then have them meet me there after they've skim-searched where the dive team are,” Steve instructed. “I'm going.” He looked at Hill, then Fury.

“I'll cover here,” Hill said, also looking at Fury.

“At least wait for a boat, Lieutenant,” Fury said. “Isn't there a scarab free yet?”

“Scarab One coming in now,” Coulson confirmed.

“Steve, take the scarab,” Fury insisted. “I'm not having you in open ocean on a damn wave-runner.”

“Yessir,” Steve said gratefully. “Thank you.” Then he turned to march out of the office. Technically there was no running allowed inside, for safety reasons, so he waited until he'd exited the building before breaking into a run.

Pounding down the wooden steps outside, Steve headed around back to the garage station, and kept running when he hit the beach. Scarab One was already coming in through the shallows, always docking close to headquarters. Steve ran over the sand, even though it got into his dress shoes and rubbed at his skin; he didn't care. At the shoreline he waved down the speedboat as the lifeguard on duty slowed and brought her in.

Steve yanked off his shoes and socks, leaving them on the beach. “I need the scarab,” he said, climbing aboard. “Emergency.”

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Bucky was playing a wonderful game of tag with a pair of sea-lions inside a kelp forest. He'd swam back to his old haunts among the smaller islands. The coral reefs always needed tending to around these parts, and Bucky spent most of his time swimming around, looking for any that needed his helping hand.

If the water wasn't the right temperature, the coral branches lost their algae and could turn white, and die. But if Bucky swam close to the coral, the movement of his hands encouraged the algae to form, and stay on the coral. This way, he helped the plant-life grow, which in turn fed the fish. He still found the opportunity to stop and play. Bucky wasn't all that hungry himself; human food really filled him up, but he swam about with the sea-lions as they caught small fish in the currents, and played tag in between.

The water was blessedly free of humans this far from the mainland, but in the midst of his playtime, Bucky felt a presence hit the water.

 _Steve_.

Bucky ceased swimming, and angled his body upright as he stilled. Was Steve in the water? Bucky let his senses reach out, listening, feeling for Steve. But no, it was too faint, and near the surface. Steve was close, headed to one of the smaller islands at high speeds. What concerned Bucky was the emotions Steve left in his wake, rippling out over the water; he was anxious, worried, and scared. Bucky could sense it just as clearly as any sea creature in distress.

Steve needed him.

Abandoning his playmates, Bucky shot off in the direction Steve was headed. He darted through the kelp forest, bursting out into open water. He spread his arms wide, willing his form to change. The short fins on his forearms grew, changing to wings of membrane that fanned out and cut through the water.

The watery shape of an ocean manta-ray formed around Bucky, created at will and shielding him from predators. Propelled by his powerful tail and aided by the giant wings, Bucky swam fast, hurrying to catch up to Steve before he went out of range.

What was Steve doing back on the water anyway? Bucky hoped the stubborn human was in a boat, for his sake.

He followed the trail as fast as he could swim, trying to keep speed with Steve, until thankfully he slowed down and Bucky was able to better locate where he was. Steve had come to a stop just offshore from a tiny island, the same one Bucky had used to beach Steve on not five days ago.

Bucky swam, rising closer to the surface, where Steve's presence felt stronger. The shape of a small vessel came into view, a silhouette on the surface of the calm water. Bucky was relieved. This close to shore, the boat was relatively safe without anchor, bobbing gently in the waves.

At least Steve wasn't in open ocean.

Bucky swam up to the boat, scaring away a shoal of fish in the process. He reached the hull, hands held palm out to cup the smooth underside, halting his momentum. As he swayed in the water, his wings and manta-ray form dispersed, breaking down into tiny particles that drifted away on the current. Bucky pressed his hands more firmly at the boat, searching out Steve with his senses, his tail slowly undulating beneath to keep him steady.

Steve was on the boat –that Bucky was sure of– and he was alone; no imminent danger that Bucky could detect. So why was Steve so anxious? Fear rolled off the boat as steady as a pulse. Whatever was wrong, Bucky had to help.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Steve took Scarab One and headed straight for Santa Inez, the speedboat skimming over the water and making great time. There had been no word on Bucky yet from the other teams, and when Santa Inez came into view, Steve slowed the boat and scanned the water around him.

No sign of anyone, especially the dark head of hair that Steve was so desperate to see breaking the surface.

Grabbing the radio from the boat's control panel, Steve checked in. “KMF two-nine-five. Scarab One to Hive. Over.”

“Go ahead, Steve,” Clint's voice replied.

“Just got to Santa Inez,” Steve reported. “Any word from the dive team? Over.”

“Negative,” Clint replied. “I'll radio as soon as I hear anything. Air Rescue are headed to your location, ETA six minutes tops. Over.”

“Roger,” Steve said. “Over and out.” He replaced the radio and steered the boat, running it parallel to the deserted beach.

Only a few days ago, Steve had sat on that very beach, awaiting rescue. Clint said they'd been led to Steve by a lone swimmer with dark hair. It _had_ to have been Bucky, and Steve was sure he was here.

Cutting the engine, Steve picked up the binoculars. He'd allow the boat to drift for the moment, while he searched the surrounding area. Once Air Rescue backed him up, hopefully they'd find Bucky.

Steve scanned the horizon with the binoculars, and saw nothing but water. He turned to the island instead, and scanned the beach; a few rocks and shrubs obscuring his view. Maybe he should go ashore, Steve considered, and search for Bucky there. Just to rule it out.

The island was popular for camping and hiking, but visitors always came by boat. How on earth could one man swim out all this way on his own?

Steve drew in a ragged breath, frustrated that there was still no sign of Bucky anywhere. He could be trapped in an underwater cave for all Steve knew, or floating out to sea on the tide, already drowned. Steve couldn't bear to dwell on it, yet his mind kept churning over every horrible scenario, every risk and outcome.

“Goddammit, Bucky,” Steve breathed out. “Where the hell–”

A soft thud on the boat distracted Steve. The sound of something smacking at the side, and then another thud. Steve lowered the binoculars, turning to locate the sound.

It wasn't until he heard the splash that he recognised the sounds to be someone trying to climb aboard. Heart leaping, Steve dropped the binoculars and scrambled to the side of the boat. He leaned over its shallow side just as wet hands slapped onto the edge –one wrist with a pink hair-tie around it– and a dark head of hair broke the surface, flipping their wet hair back with water droplets flying everywhere.

“Bucky!” Steve reached down to grab him, holding his shoulders to stop him slipping back down into the water. Bucky grinned at him, dripping wet, but alive and well.

Steve felt light headed with relief. “C'mon,” he urged, bracing himself in order to haul Bucky into the boat. Then he glanced down at the water, and his heart skipped a beat.

Steve's first reaction was fear. He saw the huge fish tail, the shape of some giant creature in the water, and he mistook its silhouette for a shark; some man-eater that was about to swallow Bucky whole before Steve could pull him to safety.

The water was crystal clear, and after that first paralysing moment of fear, Steve realised he was wrong. No shark was such a long, slim shape, or even that colour blue. So it was _something_ _else_.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped out, gripping onto him. Bucky didn't budge, merely held onto the side of the boat and watched Steve curiously.

Steve risked another look into the water, to assess what was in there with Bucky. A giant oarfish?

That's when he saw that the fish tail was...

It _was_ Bucky. The giant blue, shimmering tail that beat back and forth below them was attached to Bucky.

Steve felt light headed again, woozy in a way he rarely experienced any more, not since he'd been sickly as a kid. He blinked, several times. Wordlessly, he looked to Bucky, taking in details he hadn't seen before. The man before him looked like Bucky, but...

This Bucky wasn't how Bucky normally looked. His skin was shiny, iridescent, and felt harder than skin should. Steve quickly removed his hands from Bucky's shoulders, and drew back in alarm. He stared at Bucky in shock, trying to process what he was seeing.

This had to be a hallucination. _Had_ to be. Steve had heat stroke, or dehydration, or something.

“Steve?” Bucky said, voice full of concern.

It was enough to pull Steve back from the brink of panic, made the situation starkly real.

“Bucky? What... What's going on?”

Bucky blinked blue-grey eyes at him. His look of concern changed into something else, something thoughtful as he assessed Steve. “You came for me,” he said, like it'd just occurred to him.

“Yes,” Steve barely choked out a response. “You disappeared!”

Bucky gazed at him, his expression calm. “Steve,” he said gently, “I must swim.”

Steve stared back at him in disbelief. He just couldn't process all this. Before he could respond, Bucky snapped his head up to the sky, like he'd heard something to be concerned about. Steve could only stare at his profile, watching how Bucky's skin shimmered like the pale insides of a shell.

A moment later, Steve heard the distant buzz of the rescue chopper. He glanced up too, spotting it in the sky, approaching from the south.

Bucky looked to Steve. “What is that?” he demanded.

“Uh...” Steve leant forward, closer to Bucky. “It's our rescue chopper. They're helping me search for _you_.”

Bucky frowned back at him, looking part annoyed and part wary. He glanced at the approaching chopper, getting louder every second, and said, “Go back to land, Steve.” His hands let go of the boat, and he dropped back into the water with a splosh.

Steve leant over after Bucky, every instinct urging him to pull Bucky into the boat... but seeing him in the water, and that huge blue tail undulating below him, gave Steve pause.

“Go back to land,” Bucky repeated, head bobbing at the surface, “I'll find you.” Then he sank down, gazing up at Steve as the water closed over his head.

Steve could only watch, spellbound, as Bucky's long dark hair fanned out in the water. His pale skin glimmered where the sun hit it, and his blue-grey eyes blinked up at Steve. When his lips curved into a smile, realisation hit Steve.

“It was you,” he whispered, certain now. Bucky had been that boy in the water all those years ago. Seeing him floating just below the surface... Yes, Steve was sure. “It _was_ you,” Steve said again, “I wasn't crazy.”

But Bucky didn't reply, his shape growing darker as he sank further from the surface. Steve watched him go, and a new terror gripped him. What if he'd hallucinated all that just now? What the hell was he doing, letting someone float off into deep water like this?

But hallucination or not, Bucky was out of his reach.

Steve felt sick. What had he done? He'd let Bucky slip through his fingers yet again. Some lifeguard he was.

The silhouette of Bucky moved in the water below, pointing down to dive. The huge blue tail flipped slowly over, its silvery finned tip breaking the surface just enough to splash Steve in the face.

It was the reality check he needed; whatever was going on, Bucky was definitely swimming with a tail, and he didn't seem to require any assistance.

 _A mermaid tail_ , Steve's mind supplied, groping for answers. _Like those mermaid obsessed swimmers who pull on latex mer-tails and go free-diving for fun._

_That's what's going on... Has to be._

Closing in overhead, the rescue chopper whirred in, rippling the water as it hovered. Steve realised his radio was talking. “Scarab One, repeat; this is Air Rescue,” Gamora's voice said. “What is your status? Over.”

Steve hurriedly got to his feet, slipping a little on the deck as he lunged for his radio. When he put it to his mouth, he didn't know what to say.

How the hell did he describe his status?

“Scarab One to Air Rescue,” Steve said, stalling for time, “have, uh... have you sighted any swimmers? Over.”

“Scarab One, that is a negative on swimmers,” Gamora replied, “but sighting of two divers on a boat on our approach, hauling containers from the water. Over.”

Steve moved his radio away as he huffed in frustration. Great, he thought, _now_ those reef divers made another appearance. What the hell were they doing with unauthorised containers?

“Air Rescue, did you notify Coastguard? Over.”

“Affirmative,” Gamora reported. “Looked like the divers were headed for Santa Barbara Island.”

Steve took a deep breath, and another. What were his options? He had to think. His gut feeling told him that he didn't want anyone discovering Bucky's location right now; didn't want anyone to see Bucky like this.

Bucky had told him to go back to land, and he would find Steve there. If he didn't, Steve would come right back here, and bring a damn fishing net with him.

But right now, he had a job to do.

“Air Rescue,” Steve said into his radio, “if we get no other calls in, see if you can pick up that boat. I'll follow you. Over.”

It'd take Coastguard longer to get here, and those divers could've slipped away yet again. If they were poaching from the Marine Life Reserve, they had to be stopped.

“Copy that, Scarab One,” Gamora replied. “Headed out.”

“Roger.” Steve replaced the radio and started the boat's engine. He slowly eased the vessel along, hoping Bucky was nowhere nearby, until he got to a safe distance.

The rescue chopper turned in the air, beating the water and Steve's hair. It was then that Steve noticed a draft, glanced down at himself and realised that two buttons must have popped off his shirt, leaving it gaping open.

_This day... seriously._

Steve slowed the boat again, bending down to rummage in one of the crew trunks. Thankfully he found a men's sized t-shirt. It was a standard lifeguard t-shirt, but that was better than a busted shirt.

Steve pulled off his shirt, quickly replacing it. Then he put the boat in gear, pointing it after the chopper that was already leaving the area.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve glanced back at the water near Santa Inez. “Be safe.”

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

 

“Baywatch, go ahead.” Clint was on top of calls today. “Let me patch you through.” Which was good, because today was busy. “Baywatch, go ahead. Oh, hey, Wanda. Yeah, a truck is on its way to you now. Hold tight.”

Clint was a veteran lifeguard, which was what the rookies needed when they had stressful situations all day. “You see the jeep now?” Clint confirmed with her. “Okay, great. They'll take it from here. You're doing great, Wanda. Call back in if you need us.”

Not every situation was a major one, but lifeguards helped everyone on the beach. Everything from cramp or sprained ankle, to emergency CPR on the sand.

“Baywatch, go ahead,” Coulson was saying next to Clint.

Hill was overseeing operations, but as soon as Fury stepped away to make some calls, Hill turned to Clint. In a lull between calls, she said, “So...” and waited.

“So?” Clint echoed back to her, not sure what she was getting at.

Hill gave him a neutral look, but Clint swore he saw the corners of her mouth turn up. “Rogers' new boyfriend,” she prompted, like she was waiting for a report.

“ _Oh_ ,” Clint said, catching on. “Yeah! Some hot nudist, or whatever.”

Hill's eyebrows shot up, which made Clint chuckle. Beside him, Coulson ended his call and, before he took another, added, “By all accounts, Steve is very taken with him.”

Hill didn't even blink, but she did pause before she said, “Let's hope we find him soon, then.”

“Word,” Clint muttered in agreement. Coulson nodded soberly.

Everyone at HQ liked Steve, even his ex's, which was no mean feat, or so Clint thought anyway. Everyone wanted the best for him. The young lieutenant was so dedicated to being a lifeguard, but he'd often seemed lonely, always sitting out of social engagements or too shy to really engage. 

Steve was the sort of sensitive soul that needed someone looking out for him. If it hadn't been for Sam, Steve would've been completely on his own. He needed someone reliable, Clint thought. Not someone reckless who was going to worry Steve half to death. Hot or not.

If nudist dude showed up alive and well, maybe he needed the shovel talk.

 

When Steve came in two hours later, he looked kinda the worse for wear. Still having shirt problems, Clint noticed, but at least a stretchy t-shirt contained his bulging pecs and everything.

Clint had seriously worried Steve was on the verge of exploding out of that lieutenant's shirt earlier.

Maybe he had? And that's why he'd had to change?

Clint opened his mouth to ask, then remembered the situation at hand. Still no sighting of the boyfriend, nude or not.

Steve was tense. He'd also tried chasing down a small yacht with Air Rescue over suspected divers in the conservation area. Control desk had heard it all unfold over the comms. Clint hadn't liked the idea of Steve going after suspected pirates or whatever on his own, back-up chopper or not.

Steve was pissy about it though. He took back command at the desk, freeing Hill to go assist Fury in whatever high brass decisions had to get made today.

During a quiet moment between calls, Steve called up County's uniform department, and ordered himself some more shirts.

“I dunno what the deal with shirts is anyway,” Clint offered, happy in his lifeguard's casual t-shirt and sweats. “Like, they could make a t-shirt for lieutenants that had all the right insignia printed on it, and it'd be stretchy! It's the solution. Let me call Fury right now...” He made to connect the call, joking of course. He was trying to distract Steve from stewing.

Steve gave him a classic Steve Rogers half smile, because he was _Steve_ and too polite for his own good. The guy probably needed to visit the weights room and let out some tension, but he was stuck in a command post for now.

It was a long afternoon.

Air Rescue had been reporting in when they could, between rescue calls. And Namor's dive team had handed the search for Bucky over to Coastguard, who had more divers available.

Between missing persons and alleged pirates, Coastguard spent the afternoon patrolling the bay too.

Despite being tense and somewhat snippy at times, Clint thought that Steve was... calmer?

A bit calmer than when he'd left.

Maybe getting out onto the water was a reminder that finding one lone swimmer in the ocean was the proverbial needle in a haystack. If anything bad had happened to Steve's guy, tides would bring in a body, if they were lucky.

If they were _luckier_ , he'd turn up alive.

Clint periodically crossed his fingers, whispering, “C'mon, c'mon,” under his breath, praying for Steve to get good news.

The call came at close to five PM, when the craziness of the day was finally winding down. By now, Clint was kinda expecting bad news. “Baywatch, go ahead,” he said, for the ten millionth time that day. “Wanda, hey,” he greeted. “What? Slow down...” He tried to hear her quick-fire report. “Who lost your sunglasses?” Clint's eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. _Oh_ , okay. Standby...” Clint put the call on mute and turned to Steve, who was skimming through the day's rescue logs. “Uh, Lieutenant?”

Steve looked up. He seemed tired and tightly wound.

“Good news,” Clint said cheerily. “Wanda says your boy just strolled up to her tower, although bad news is he's lost her sunglasses and she's pissed.”

Steve stared back at him, frozen on the spot as the information sunk in.

Clint was about to prompt him, when Steve dropped the logs onto the desk and snapped into action. “Tell Wanda to keep him there. I'll head down in the truck.”

“Roger that.” Clint went back to his call as he watched Steve march out of the office. “Wanda?” He spoke into his headset. “Steve's headed down now. Keep his guy there no matter what, okay? Hog tie him if you have to. He's what, now?” Clint made a face at the news Wanda told him. “Naked? Well, throw a towel on him or something. Okay, bye.” Clint removed his headset briefly in order to rub at his temples. “What a day,” he muttered.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> How do you think Steve's ex's will react to meeting Bucky? ^.


	4. Here Comes Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky finally do some proper communicating ^.^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

“I can't believe you lost my sunglasses,” Wanda complained, picking up a canvas bag to search through it.

They were in her beach tower, Wanda having ushered Bucky inside the moment he'd gotten close enough. After she'd spoken hurriedly into the wall mounted telephone (sounding suspiciously like she was complaining) she'd hung up, fixed Bucky with a stern look, then began reprimanding him.

Bucky hadn't realised sunglasses were so important to humans.

He cleared his throat. “I didn't mean to lose the glasses,” he admitted.

Wanda paused to gawk at him.

“I can search for them next time I swim,” he offered.

Wanda shook her head. “Just...! Forget about the sunglasses.” She pulled out a piece of floral red material from the bag, thrust it at Bucky. “Here. Put that on. I can't talk to you if you're naked.”

Bucky glanced down at the material, held it in his hands as Wanda turned around with a huff. He didn't understand. “You can't talk to me..?” he repeated.

Wanda huffed again, waving her hand. “Can you please just put that on?” She was starting to sound exasperated.

Bucky didn't want that. He examined the material, pretty and very soft to the touch. He found the corners of it and held it out to see what shape it was. A sort of... long shape. Bucky tried to recall what humans wore on beaches. There were a lot of variations, from what he'd seen. He didn't understand why some beaches had different customs of covering bodies. It was all very confusing. He suspected humans had just made these rules up.

He held the material in front of himself and wondered how to make it stay.

Wanda peered around to check his progress, then groaned. “It's a sarong.” She turned to him and made quick work of folding the material in half, then wrapping it around his waist and tying the ends in a secure knot. “Okay, that's better,” she declared.

She'd given him a skirt, Bucky thought, looking down at himself. It looked... nice.

“Can't have you naked on the beach, okay?” Wanda told him seriously. “I don't know how they do things where you're from, but here it's indecent.”

Bucky looked at her, trying to process her words. _Indecent_?

How ridiculous.

Wanda wasn't finished. “You'd better replace my sunglasses, Bucky. Those were expensive.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, then frowned. “Expense...?”

“Expensive.”

“Expensive?” he repeated.

“Yes! Like...” Wanda searched for another word. “Worth a lot of money.”

“Valuable?” he hedged.

“Yes!”

Bucky nodded. He didn't understand why humans valued certain things above others, but he did understand the meaning of value. “I shall replace them,” he promised.

Wanda seemed satisfied at that. “Well, _good_. And why did you disappear anyway? Steve was worried sick. He had the whole of beach ops looking for you.”

At the mention of Steve, Bucky frowned a little. He felt a strange sense of guilt, which wasn't something he'd felt much of before; only when he'd been too late to save a sea creature had he felt guilt. Feeling it now, when no one had been hurt, confused him.

“Steve?” he asked. “Where...?”

“He's coming here now. So, you better stay put, and think up some damn good excuse by the time he gets here.” She turned on her heel and marched back outside to the small platform overlooking the beach. A large wooden slat acted as a temporary roof, shielding her from the sun. Even low in the sky as it was, it was still very warm.

Bucky followed her onto the platform, pondering on the human word _excuse_ and if he'd come across it before. All he could come up with was that he needed to be excused. Although from what, he wasn't sure.

Wanda pointed him to a wooden chair and told him to sit, while she got out a pair of binoculars to start scanning the beach.

Bucky sat, but only because he was tired. He'd been swimming about all day, covering a lot of distance and healing the reef and plant-life along the way. He hadn't eaten yet; this would normally be the time he'd catch himself a meal then find somewhere secluded to rest.

But he'd been concerned about Steve, so he'd come ashore.

Bucky shifted awkwardly in the hard chair, feeling like he'd done a lot of things wrong today. He'd have to make an effort to communicate better with Steve. If only humans were better at non verbal communication, Bucky thought to himself, it'd make his life a whole lot easier.

The beach wasn't as busy now, the hoards of humans having already dwindled. The stragglers were packing up and leaving too, which was a relief.

Wanda began to close down her tower. Bucky helped her carry the chairs inside, and lower the wooden slats down, locking it all up tight. When he looked back at the beach, he spotted a yellow vehicle driving along the water's edge, spraying up surf as it went.

“That's probably Steve,” Wanda said, when she spotted it too. Bucky looked to her, unsure what he should be doing... seeing as everything he'd done today had been so wrong.

“Want me to check?” Wanda picked up a held held radio. “Tower twenty-six to truck unit approaching us. Steve, is that you? Over.”

Bucky waited, feeling somewhat tense. When Steve's voice crackled over the radio in response, he almost jumped in surprise.

“Ten one, Wanda. Approaching you now. Over.”

Wanda looked at Bucky, then sighed. “You'd better go meet him. If I was gonna to chew someone out, I'd prefer doing it in private.”

Bucky blinked at her in confusion.

 _Chew?_ Did she mean... _sex?_ He didn't understand.

Bucky looked to the approaching vehicle, then to Wanda. She waited expectantly. Bucky still felt like he was missing something, but he nodded anyway and stepped onto the small gangplank, walking down it onto the sand.

Judging from the vehicle's approach, if he continued down to the shoreline now, he'd be there to meet it. So Bucky walked across the sand, his skirt fluttering in the ocean breeze. His hair was blowing about too, so he used the pink hair-tie on his wrist to pull it back in a knot. So convenient.

Bucky reached the wet sand, and turned to face the vehicle. A wave rolled in, the edge of the water lapping at his feet. Bucky tried to ignore its pull, the temptation to just dive back into the water.

Steve must've spotted him, as the vehicle slowed its approach, turning slightly so it parked on dry sand. Bucky walked over to meet him, and felt a little apprehensive.

That was, until the door opened and Steve got out. Bucky broke into a smile upon seeing him safe and well. Steve wore a white top now, with red shorts, his legs and feet bare. He had a concerned look on his handsome face. “Bucky,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “Are you...” His eyes dropped to the skirt Bucky wore, then came back up to meet Bucky's eyes. “Are you all right?”

Bucky nodded, though he thought his well-being had been established earlier when Steve had seen him in the water, but he must've been mistaken.

Steve had a peculiar look on his face, like he had several things he wanted to communicate, but couldn't.

Bucky's smile faded. He didn't understand why Steve was so concerned about him. Bucky could take care of himself. “Steve,” he tried, but Steve indicated to his truck.

“Get in,” he said tiredly.

Bucky looked at the vehicle, and stepped around to its passenger side. The door was shut, but its window was open. Bucky hesitated, unsure how to get inside, as he couldn't detect where any handle was... unless Steve expected him to jump through the window? Which he could easily do, except... maybe not in this skirt.

Steve came around and yanked open the door, surprising Bucky. He stood there stiffly while Bucky got himself inside the truck, sitting in the comfy seat. Once settled, he turned to grin at Steve, but Steve shut the door, _hard_ , and with its impact Bucky was hit with a wave of bubbling emotions; frustration, annoyance...

Even anger.

Bucky stared wide eyed as his mate stomped back around the truck, got in the driver's side and slammed that door shut too. Steve breathed in deep and huffed it out, filling the cabin with another palpable wave of frustration.

It was enough to make Bucky feel dizzy. Thankfully the windows were open so the fresh ocean air could blow in.

“Bucky, do you have any idea how worried I've been?” Steve snapped, glaring hard at his steering wheel. “I had everyone out looking for you. I thought you'd drowned! What the hell were you thinking?”

Bucky shrank in on himself, feeling trapped. He'd woefully misjudged this whole situation, and now Steve was upset with him.

But as quickly as his anger had risen, Steve seemed to deflate as he blew out another tired breath. There was still a lot of frustration and annoyance in the air, but Bucky sensed weariness and hurt too.

He'd _hurt_ Steve.

Bucky bit his lip, unsure what to say to make things better. He would've preferred to communicate through touch, to reach over and take his mate's hand, hold him through this turmoil... but everything about Steve's body language right now was closed off, guarded, and Bucky certainly didn't want to make things any worse.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” he said carefully.

Steve stared out at the empty beach, an unhappy look set on his face, and emotions still pouring off of him.

Bucky felt panic start to seep in, because he hadn't expected this. He didn't understand what was happening either; why was he feeling Steve's hurt so acutely? They weren't underwater, they were on _land_. Bucky never felt things like this on land, not from anything. Steve was hurting and Bucky wasn't making it any better just sitting there.

In his panic, he went with his gut instinct to touch, to _heal_ , and he reached out to place a hand over Steve's. A flash of warmth and love shot through him on contact, but following in its place was frustration. Steve pulled his hand away, and gripped his steering wheel with both hands.

Bucky almost reached for Steve again, shocked that Steve had withdrawn, but he hesitated. He'd had creatures shy away from him at times, usually if they'd been seriously hurt or scared, and only calm patience could work in those situations.

Bucky tried to summon his patience. He settled back into his seat, hands in his lap.

This situation was stressful, he thought. He'd never had a mate before, though he'd dearly wanted one, and now he kept doing the wrong thing and jeopardising their harmony.

Steve breathed in, and Bucky waited for him to speak.

“How long have you been free-diving like that?” he demanded.

Bucky didn't know _free-diving_ , but he suspected Steve meant swimming. It made no sense to Bucky, he'd thought Steve had _known_. Steve had seen him underwater before, didn't he remember?

Slowly, it dawned on him. “You thought I was human.”

Steve turned to look at him then, met his eyes. The anger had disappeared, in its place an almost blank look that Bucky couldn't decipher.

Fear crept back in, fear of the unexpected. “Steve,” he pleaded, “don't tell other humans.”

Steve opened his mouth, hesitated. Then he shook his head, closed his eyes briefly. “I haven't told anyone,” he murmured. “They'd think I was crazy anyway.” He snorted inelegantly. “Y'know how many people told me I was crazy all those years ago? Do you know how many child psychologists called me crazy? Huh, Bucky? All because I said I'd seen you in the water in Catalina. I am never going through that again.”

Bucky felt riled enough to respond, “I saved you from _drowning_. I've saved you twice. I came up here to keep you safe, but _you're_ the one who keeps leaving me. So, I went swimming!” He threw his hands up, impatient and annoyed. “Am I not allowed to leave when I want?”

Steve gaped at him. “Were... were you _leaving?_ ”

Bucky watched Steve closely, noted the concern on his face. He tried to choose his words carefully. “Leave for a _short_ time, and come back. But you left _me_ first,” he pointed out. “You left me with loud humans.”

“I was trying to get you a job,” Steve explained. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I- I thought... I thought you'd left me again. I thought you'd drowned. Jeez, Bucky.”

Bucky sniffed, offended at the implications. “I did neither.”

“How was I supposed to know that, Bucky?” Steve sighed. “I'm not a mind reader. I... we... _Shit_.” He straightened in his seat, looking out at the beach. Bucky looked too, saw two figures crossing the sand on foot. One was Wanda, the other was a blonde woman.

Steve swore under his breath. “We're not done talking about this,” he said lowly, just before the blonde woman leant in at his window.

“Hey,” she said with a smile directed at Steve. “What happened to the new uniform, Lieutenant? Not more coffee, I hope?”

Her voice was teasing, and the way she gazed at Steve spoke volumes about her intent. Bucky tensed, fully alert, and watched her closely.

Steve didn't seem concerned, although perhaps was a little tense himself. Steve was always tense around other humans, Bucky had already noticed that trait. This was a different tension, something different.

Bucky watched with disbelief as the blonde woman _flirted_ with Steve, leaned in his window and he just _let it happen_. Wanda was still on the sand, distracted by her hand held device.

“...shift's almost over,” Steve was saying. “Back in the uniform tomorrow, if they still want me.”

“Why wouldn't they?” she said, then finally seemed to notice Bucky. “Oh, right. Is this the little troublemaker?”

“Uh...” Steve looked between them. “Sharon, this is Bucky. Bucky, Sharon.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sharon smiled briefly, then turned back to Steve. “So, are you driving us in?”

“Uh...” Steve floundered. “Unit two should be along shortly.”

“Or you could take us now?” Sharon urged. “Then we won't have to wait as long.”

“I... Yeah, all right. Hop in.”

Wanda opened one of the back doors, got inside. She barely looked up from her phone, but she did say, “Hey,” in greeting.

Sharon lingered at Steve's side door. “Um, would you mind if I sat up front with you? Still the same problem.”

“Oh. Um.” Steve turned to Bucky, a flush colouring his cheeks. “Buck, would you mind riding in the back? Sharon gets car sick.”

Bucky stared at Steve as he processed that. What he understood, whether Steve realised it or not, was that Bucky had a rival for Steve's attention.

“Bucky?” Steve prompted.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. He did not approve.

The blonde walked around the truck, waited at his door. Bucky was still glaring at Steve to convey his displeasure.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded under his breath, “just do this for me? It's only a short ride back.” He reached across Bucky and opened the door. “Hop out.”

Bucky couldn't believe this.

Sharon was there, clearly pleased that she was getting priority. “Thanks for switching out,” she said merrily, as Bucky turned to her. “Car sickness is such a drag, I can't even...”

She trailed off as Bucky got out and stood up to full height, purposely moved into her space while staring at her. All his instincts were primed to engage in attack, but he reigned them in. It helped that she retreated back a few steps, giving ground to him.

If looks could kill, Bucky would've murdered her with his glare alone.

Then Steve was getting out of the truck and putting himself in between them. “Bucky,” he said, cautious. Bucky directed his glare to Steve, willing him to understand his displeasure. “Bucky,” he said, voice overly calm, “car sickness means that a person can only ride up front, or they feel unwell. Do you understand? It's a health reason.”

Bucky digested that, and his anger did ebb away slightly... but when he glanced at Sharon to assess her, his gut told him it was still a slight on him. This woman was vying for Steve's attention, and whether Steve realised that or not, Bucky refused to play along.

He wanted Steve's attention too.

Stepping aside, Bucky gave Steve a parting frown, before setting off across the sand. He wasn't headed in a particular direction, just _away_.

As hoped, Steve followed him, even planted himself in his path to block his escape. “Where are you going?” he questioned, looking cross again.

Bucky was cross too. He stood firm, folded his arms, and waited for Steve to _understand_.

Steve still looked cross. “Jeez, Bucky,” he hissed quietly, “you can't just storm off all the time. You have to talk. _Talk_ to me.”

“We were talking,” Bucky pointed out, “then _she_ interrupted.”

Steve seemed at a loss for words, mouth open as he looked at Bucky.

Bucky didn't move, wouldn't yield on this, and finally Steve seemed to understand. “All right,” he sighed. “Just this one time, okay? But you're gonna have to learn how to handle this in the future, because she's not the only ex I work with.”

Bucky frowned, not understanding the _ex_ part, but Steve was already turning to the truck and calling out, “Go ahead and take unit one back to base! We're staying here.”

“You sure?” Sharon called back. She sounded surprised.

Bucky smirked to himself.

“Yeah, we'll walk back,” Steve answered.

“Okay...” Sharon walked around to the driver's side, getting behind the wheel.

Wanda stuck her head out the window to call, “Keep the sarong, but don't forget about my sunglasses!”

Bucky saluted her in reply, watching them drive off. Then it was just him and Steve alone on the beach.

Much better.

Steve placed his hands on his hips and huffed out a tired breath. “Look, before you... _assume_ anything, I know Sharon can seem a little... ah... over familiar. I haven't seen her for a long time, and she showed up unexpectedly today, and...” He trailed off, looking frustrated.

Bucky watched him, wanted to help. “I can fight her,” he offered.

The look of horror on Steve's face seemed to suggest that wasn't what he wanted. “What? No! No, Bucky. No. That's not necessary.”

Bucky made a face at that. Seemed necessary to him. “I won't kill her,” he clarified.

Steve flailed. “No! No, no. Please don't fight anyone, that is _not_ how we do things!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow in question. Humans fought and killed each other all the time, for no reason. Was Steve not aware of this?

Seeing the concern on Steve's face, the earnestness there, Bucky was once again reminded that Steve wasn't like other humans.

Bucky unfolded his arms, forced himself to relax. “No fighting,” he said, agreeing to Steve's terms. As long as Steve wasn't in any danger, Bucky would leave him and the humans to their strange social hierarchy. He figured he could get away with lurking and glaring now and then, if needs be.

“Okay, good,” Steve said, sounding relieved. “We're going to have to set some ground rules, okay? That is, I mean... if you're planning to stay with me?”

Bucky listened, and nodded.

“Good. Okay, good,” Steve rambled. “Do you... I mean, what's with the swimming, then? Are you... do you do that every day?”

Bucky considered, tilted his head a little. He should really swim every day, at least for patrols.

“What are you even doing down there?” Steve asked. “Is it free-diving? Why didn't you tell me?”

He was upset again. Bucky didn't want that. He reached for Steve's hands, tangling their fingers together. Steve let him hold on, seemed to calm at the contact. Bucky closed his eyes, and sent as much healing energy to Steve as he could, but he didn't know if it worked with humans. Steve was the first human he'd tried with.

Steve exhaled quietly, relaxing. Bucky moved closer, pressing into Steve for more contact.

But Steve pulled back.

“No, Bucky.” He stepped away. “Don't distract me right now. We're not done talking.”

Bucky managed to hold onto one of Steve's hands. He chewed his lip, trying to sort through all the things he was feeling. All he knew for sure was that, on land, things were overly complicated. Underwater, things were simple, established. Bucky had to fight the urge to drag Steve to the water in order to resolve this situation. He blew out a breath, unsure what to say first. “I'm _trying_. Talking is...”

Annoying, inconvenient, a huge waste of energy, not worth the air...

Bucky frowned. “Talking is not easy.”

Steve looked sad at that. “Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, Bucky. If I knew what language you spoke, I could learn? If that's what you want.”

Bucky smiled at him, holding onto Steve's hand. “I can teach you.”

“Yes! Yes, that's great.” Steve smiled too. “What's your language?”

Bucky tugged gently on Steve's hand, pulled him close. Steve allowed it, stilled as Bucky placed his other hand on the back of his neck, tilting his head down. Bucky carefully touched his forehead to Steve's, and closed his eyes. Like this he felt Steve's emotions clearly, felt them flow into him; love, relief, and an anxious worry for his well-being.

Bucky felt all those things too. He took a deep breath in, then breathed out, letting his love and affection for Steve flow to the surface, pour over them both. He breathed in again, held his breath a moment, then slowly began to expel the air in a series of clicks through his throat.

He communicated to most larger mammals this way, and he'd heard some human boats try to join in and copy the sounds, so Steve was sure to recognise it.

After a few more clicks and trills, Steve shifted against him.

“Um, Bucky. What are you doing?”

Bucky pulled back to look at him, noting the perplexed look on Steve's face.

Well, so much for that idea, Bucky thought. “We can use your language,” he said, starting to pull away.

Steve reached for Bucky's hand, held onto it. “Bucky, I promise I'll do my best to learn. I guess I have a lot to learn here. Give me a chance, okay?”

Steve seemed earnest, and Bucky smiled at him. He twined his fingers with Steve's.

“So, ah...” Steve met his eyes. “Who do you talk to? You got any friends out there?”

Bucky nodded.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Mammals.”

“Mammals,” Steve echoed. “What, like... you and me?”

Bucky smirked. “No. Seals, dolphins, whales. And big fish. Sharks...”

Steve's eyes widened. “You swim with sharks?”

“Yes.” Well, Bucky thought, sharks swam with _him_.

“Bucky.” Steve looked pained, held onto Bucky's hand. “That's not safe, not on your own. What if something happened?”

“Sharks like me,” Bucky told him, which only made Steve's pained expression worse. Bucky frowned at that. “Steve, I am safe in the water. Only humans can hurt me.”

“What?” Steve stiffened, alert. “Why would they hurt you?”

Sighing, Bucky asked, “Why do humans hurt anything?”

Steve sighed too. “Because they don't understand,” he muttered. A flash of anger passed through Steve, sending a flicker of an image to Bucky, of humans taking coral from the reef.

Bucky voiced the word Steve was thinking. “Poachers.”

Steve nodded. “There's some dangerous people out there. This is even more reason for you to stay with me, Bucky. I can keep you safe, no one would know.”

“I will stay.” Bucky squeezed Steve's hand. “And I must go.”

“That makes no sense!”

Bucky tried again. “I... will go, and come back. Every time.”

Steve frowned, pursed his lips. Bucky tried to reassure him.

“I will always come back, Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve challenged. “You can't promise something like that, Bucky. What if something happens to you? How would I know, huh? You could disappear like before in Catalina, and I'd never know about it.”

Now Bucky felt sad. “I was here,” he said quietly. “I've been here. I never left. I waited for you.”

“You... waited for me?”

“Yes.”

Steve went quiet, like this news surprised him. Bucky couldn't think why, it should've been obvious.

Then again, he thought, humans did have a fantastic ability to overlook the obvious.

He looked at Steve, held his gaze as he promised, “I will always be here for you.”

Steve smiled, although it was sad. “You can't promise that, Buck. What if something had happened to you today? I'd have had no way of knowing.”

“ _Nngh_.” Bucky tilted his head back with a grunt. He was hungry and tired, and this talking seemed never ending. “Food, Steve,” he commanded, as his stomach rumbled in agreement. “ _Hungry_.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed. “I'm pretty hungry too. We better get going then, as we're walking back to base.” He led Bucky by the hand, and they started off.

Bucky walked at Steve's side, relieved. If Steve didn't feed him soon, he'd have to dive back into the water to catch his own dinner.

And he'd kinda been holding out for pizza.

The sun was low in the sky. Seagulls and other small birds pecked along the shoreline, searching for food too.

“Just so you know,” Steve said as they walked over warm sand, “this conversation is on hold. We still need to go over ground rules.”

“Ground... rules?” Bucky glanced at the sand below them, wondering if Steve meant that.

“Yeah, ground rules.” Steve wasn't looking at the ground, he was looking ahead at the beach. “If you were, like, a _regular_ guy, there's no way what you did today would be acceptable. You can't go off without warning me first, and you can't threaten or intimidate the people I know.”

Bucky refrained from making a face. He wanted to make Steve happy, he wanted to protect him. He'd do whatever it took.

“Aye, aye, Cap'n,” he said, repeating the phrase he'd heard humans use on boats.

Steve gave him a side long look. “Okay, now I know you're being a wise guy.”

 _Wise?_ Bucky conceded he could be wise.

“Yes,” he agreed, though Steve shook his head with a chuckle.

“Never mind, pal.”

They walked several paces in silence, with just the sound of the waves rolling in and out. They passed by the next guard tower, empty now that all the guards had left.

“So, what are you?” Steve asked suddenly.

“I'm Bucky.”

“Yeah, I know...” Steve huffed a laugh. They were still holding hands. “Man, I swear I have no idea how much is getting lost in translation here.”

Bucky kind of understood that. He was trying his best. “I'm sorry.”

“No, it's not your fault. It just means we both have to try harder. We're gonna figure all this out, okay, Bucky? But you gotta tell me before you disappear off anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay.” Bucky paused, frowned in thought. “And you tell me before you leave?”

“What?”

“You leave too, Steve. You left me today.”

“I...? Shit. Okay. We both have to talk first if we need to leave.”

“Yes.”

“Right. Good.” A pause, then, “So, where do you keep your tail?”

Bucky looked away, avoided Steve's questioning gaze. This was uncharted territory, and Bucky had no idea how much he should share. On the one hand, Steve had already seen him in the water, more than once, and Bucky had thought Steve knew.

But judging from today's upset, he realised he'd been wrong. Now Steve was curious, and the concern was always when humans were too curious.

But... Steve was his mate.

Bucky took a fortifying breath, and changed course, tugging Steve to the shoreline.

“Bucky, we're not going swimming.”

“Not swimming.” Bucky led Steve onto wet sand, into the surf as the foamy tip of a wave rolled in. The water broke over their bare feet, and receded again. Bucky stood still, planted his feet securely. “You can watch.”

“Watch?” Steve seemed anxious, but Bucky held onto his hand and looked down, wriggling the toes on his right foot as he extended his leg a little, waiting for the water to hit him.

“Watch,” he said, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on just that foot, and when the water washed over his limb, he willed his skin to change to scales, and webbing to form between his toes.

“Oh,” Steve breathed, gripping Bucky's hand that much tighter.

Bucky opened his eyes, saw Steve staring down at his foot in the surf, a mildly surprised look on his face. Bucky willed the change to revert back; willing the scales away just as quickly. They shimmered in the sunlight before disappearing, and the webbing between his toes disappeared too.

Steve was still staring down at Bucky's foot like he was in shock. Bucky stroked his arm. “Steve?”

Steve looked up at him, met his eyes. For one terrifying moment, Bucky thought Steve was going to reject him. He felt his heart skip a beat.

But then Steve nodded slowly, held Bucky's hand and led him back along the beach. They walked at the shoreline now, and Bucky much preferred being closer to the water. He was nervous too, and hung onto Steve's arm.

They walked a few paces in quiet, until Steve let out a laugh. “Well, either I'm totally crazy, or completely sane. I can't decide which.”

Bucky remained quiet, hanging on Steve and projecting as much calm into him as he could spare.

“Okay,” Steve murmured as they walked along. “Oh-kay. Okay...”

“Okay,” Bucky joined in.

“Okay... Shit. Look, Bucky.” Steve stopped, turned Bucky to face him. “Don't show anyone else, all right? Don't tell anyone you can do that.”

Bucky shook his head. He wasn't stupid.

“Okay,” Steve breathed in relief. “Okay, good. Let's just... let's go home, and we'll figure all this out.”

“Pizza?” Bucky pleaded.

Steve looked at him, then smiled. “Pizza? Well, all right. Ah, shit.” He winced. “I have to get groceries. Okay, back to base first, I gotta get my things and then we'll get food.”

“Pizza?”

“Then we'll get pizza,” Steve amended.

Bucky wriggled in anticipation. “I like pizza.”

“Oh, yeah? I hadn't noticed...” Steve put his arm around Bucky's shoulders and they walked together through the surf.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“C'mon.” Clint led Wanda out of the main office, through the plexi-glass door and outside onto the large open balcony that headquarters used to observe the water. Scott was at the railings, peering through a set of long distance binoculars. Clint threw himself into the spare deck chair beside Scott, making him jump. “Huddle, huddle!” he urged, as Wanda followed him with an bored expression. She leaned at the railing and pulled her cell from her jacket pocket, having already changed into civvies.

“Hey, Barton...” Scott checked his watch. “I thought you were on radios till seven?”

“Huddle break,” Clint informed him. “This is important. Aaand,” he turned to Wanda, “go!”

“There's not much to tell,” she said off-hand.

“Oh, c'mon!” Clint threw his hands up. “Sharon was pouting this way to Sunday! What happened when they met?”

“Who met who?” Scott asked.

“Sharon met Steve's new fella,” Clint filled him in, then turned back to Wanda. “Was he still naked?”

“No, I leant him my sarong.”

Clint barked a laugh. “Oh, man! Then what? Sharon just told Hope that he was rude and overly possessive.”

“Well... not really. Sharon interrupted them talking, then she batted her eyelashes at Steve, so Bucky glared at her a bit. Then he stayed on the beach with Steve while Sharon drove me back here. That was that.”

“That was that?” Clint dead-panned. “Wanda, you need to work on your delivery, okay? This gossip is gold! With a little flair, it could easily be the best story of the month.”

Wanda shrugged, went back to her phone.

Clint shook his head in mock despair. Then he grinned. “Wait till Nat and Maria hear this.”

Honestly, Clint was relieved that the guy was alive and well, if only for Steve's sake. The gossip was just the cherry on the cake.

“Yeah, Clint, somehow I don't think Steve wants all his ex's to get together over this and compare notes,” Scott put in.

“Steve and Nat never dated.” Clint leaned back, folded his hands behind his head.

Scott frowned at him, confused. Even Wanda looked up from her phone.

Gossip was all about the delivery. Clint smiled to himself with satisfaction.

“I thought they dated back when he came to work here,” Scott said.

Clint's smile stretched into a grin. “Nope.”

“How do you know?” Wanda asked.

Clint turned his grin on her, tapped the side of his head with his finger. “Hive mind. People call Baywatch HQ the hive but, really, they're talking about what's between my ears.”

Scott snorted, while Wanda smiled fondly.

“Man, if you know so much,” Scott challenged, “you'd be able to tell me when my next date will be.”

“You'd have to ask Hope about that,” Clint replied.

Scott blinked at him. “What?”

“What?” Clint waggled his eyebrows at Scott. “You heard me, Lang.”

A rosy flush was appearing on Scott's cheeks, and he looked about for a distraction. “Oh, hey! There's Pietro!” he called, then quickly stuck his face back in the binoculars to look at the beach.

Clint chuckled to himself. Pietro was indeed approaching –still in his guard's shorts and jacket, sports bag on his shoulder– walking up the wooden steps that led directly from the beach.

“Hey,” he greeted, carrying an ice pop in each hand. He passed one to Wanda, slurping on the other one himself.

Clint stared at him. “Where's mine?”

Pietro shrugged one shoulder “You're still on shift.”

“Yeah, all the more reason to bring me food,” Clint pointed out. He made to get up, which had Pietro darting behind Wanda for protection.

Clint enjoyed annoying the rookies.

“Hey...” Scott waved a hand, slapped Clint's shoulder. “Here comes Steve and his guy.”

Clint jumped up. “Let's see.” He nudged Scott aside and peered into the binoculars. The beach came into view. Sure enough, a couple were walking along the sand toward HQ, very close together. Clint adjusted the focus, saw that Steve had his arm around the other man's shoulders, and he in turn had his arm around Steve's waist. They seemed happy enough; chatting and smiling together as they walked along.

Actually, Clint couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen Steve smile so much.

“Hmm,” he said, thoughtful. “Everything seems all right.” He pulled away from the binoculars to look at Wanda. “And he didn't say where he'd gone today? Why he'd disappeared?”

“Not to me,” Wanda said. “But Steve sure had a face on him when they were talking it out in the truck. Before Sharon went over and butted in, anyway.”

“Hm. A'ight.” Clint shrugged. “Seems like they worked it out. I bet Fury is expecting a full report though.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Sam had had a long day. The beach had been spilling over, which meant more swimmers and more work. It wasn't like there weren't enough actual emergencies throughout the day to deal with, but there were also the swimmers who wanted to take inflatables into the water, even though it was dangerous with the ocean current, and refused to listen to a mere lifeguard about safety. Sam felt like he'd spent most of the day arguing with morons in between rescues, and trying to listen in on the radio chatter when Steve's pain in the ass boyfriend had gone missing, causing a stir to locate him.

Word back at base was that he'd turned up safe and sound not forty-five minutes ago, just in time for the end of the day shift.

Sam hoped Steve would tell that guy to get lost again (unlikely, knowing Steve) or at least give him an earful.

Sam had just finished getting changed into his civvies –a beach shirt and shorts, instead of the County Lifeguards t-shirt and shorts, and his sandals– and was going through his locker looking for stray shirts to take for laundry. He was killing time, waiting to hear from Steve, but tidying was never a bad thing. The lockers were made from wood with open slats, and it was still a good idea to clean them out regularly.

Sam's phone buzzed, and he quickly put it to his ear. “Yo.”

“Sam, hey.” Steve's voice.

“Hey, man.” Sam was relieved. “Where are you?”

“I'm in the garage,” Steve explained. “Uh, I need a favor.”

“Shoot.”

“If you're still in the hive...”

“Yeah, I'm here.”

“Would you mind bringing my bag from my locker down here?”

“No problem.” Sam shut his locker with his free hand, and turned to Steve's locker. “Fury already left, by the way. If that's why you're laying low.”

Steve's pause was telling.

“Oh,” he said. “No, I... I just thought... I have Bucky here. Would you wait with him and the jeep while I go up top?”

Sam frowned to himself. “Yeah, okay. Be there in five.” He ended the call, shook his head. He hoped Steve wasn't jeopardising his job, and his promotion, for this new fling.

He took Steve's bag and his own down to the garage. Luckily it wasn't as busy this time of day, most of the trucks now parked up for the night.

Steve was waiting by the open main exit, apparently on his own. He looked relieved to see Sam, and thanked him for bringing his bag.

Sam handed it over. “So, where's Houdini?”

Steve gave a wry smile in reply, then stuck his head out the exit. “Bucky.”

And a moment later, Steve's wayward man appeared, wearing some flowery red sarong, no less. He must've been standing outside in the evening sun.

Steve busied himself opening his bag, while Sam stared at Bucky and folded his arms.

“So,” Sam said pointedly. “Everything all right?”

Bucky didn't answer. In fact, he looked tired.

Steve looked up, then cleared his throat as he found a t-shirt of his and handed it to Bucky. “Here, put this on,” he told him, but Bucky merely held it in his hand.

Dude was definitely odd. Maybe he was high, Sam wondered.

Steve ended up helping him put on the t-shirt, while Sam watched and felt more than a bit awkward.

Then Steve searched in his bag for a protein bar. “Eat this.” He unwrapped it and gestured for Bucky to take it, who gave it such an undisguised look of disgust that Sam almost laughed.

“Or don't eat it,” Steve said, “but you need to wait here while I go talk to my boss.” He gave the snack to Bucky, and turned to Sam. “Yeah, it's... Everything is all right. There was a serious misunderstanding between me and Bucky today, but he's promised he won't disappear without warning again.”

“Mm-hm.” Sam eyed Bucky, then looked back to Steve. It wasn't unlike Steve to protect people, but this seemed a little overprotective. Even for Steve.

“I need to go talk to Hill,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Check I still have a job, and stuff.”

“Steve. It's fine,” Sam told him. “No one wants you gone.”

Steve nodded, but he didn't look convinced. “I'll be quick as I can, Sam. Would you take Bucky to the jeep for me? He's pretty beat. Just until I get back?”

“Uh.” Sam put on a brave face. “Sure.”

“Great. Thanks!” Steve seemed pleased, and as he turned to go, he called, “I owe you one!” Then he dashed off through the garage, into headquarters.

Sam sighed heavily.

Man, what a day. Now he had to babysit the near-mute oddball again.

When he turned back to Bucky –or where Bucky had been– Sam almost had a heart attack because he wasn't there. He picked up Steve's discarded bag, and rushed out of the exit. He scanned the concrete flatness of the staff parking area, then spotted Bucky right next to the exit, leaning on the wall of the building. Sam halted his panic, stopped, and walked up to Bucky.

“C'mon, man. We can sit in the jeep until Steve gets back.”

Bucky blinked at him sleepily. He'd moved back into a sunlit patch, Sam realised, and he hadn't so much as touched the protein bar in his hands yet.

Bucky noticed Sam looking, and held it out to him.

Sam wondered if that was his peace offering.

“Man, those ones Steve buys are unpleasant. There's a candy bar or two in the jeep you can have.” He pointed across the parking lot. “It's right there. In the sun. C'mon.”

Incredibly, Bucky did as he was told. He followed Sam to the jeep, sat in shotgun and chowed down on two candy bars Sam found from the glove compartment.

The sun was low on the horizon, but most of the lot was in its warmth. Sam sat sideways in the driver's seat with the door open, waiting for Steve. Hopefully he wouldn't take too long.

And hopefully Captain Hill was in a forgiving mood. If anything happened to Steve's new promotion because of today, Sam was going to be pissed. He twisted round to look at Bucky, noticed him swallow hard a couple times; that was a lot of candy to inhale all at once. Sam found the water flask in his bag, handed it over.

Bucky sniffed it first, which prompted Sam to say, “No, it's not coffee, just water. Look like you could use some.”

Bucky watched him, then quietly took the flask. He smiled at Sam, and maybe that was his thank you, as he was clearly still a man of few words.

“Listen up,” Sam started, as Bucky drank the water, “you've probably had people on your case already about today, but Steve's my best friend and a damn good man, so consider me on your case too.” He fixed Bucky with his sternest look, which Bucky noticed as he released the flask from his mouth with a loud slurp. He seemed confused, then looked at the flask, and offered it back to Sam.

Sam waved a hand. “This isn't about the flask. This is about you, and Steve.” He held Bucky's gaze, wanted him to understand he was serious. “Steve has just had a promotion, one he truly deserves, and he does not have the time to chase you down when you want to goof off. D'you hear what I'm sayin'?”

Bucky blinked back at him in surprise.

Sam tried to remain calm as he could. “Look, man, all I'm saying is, treat Steve with the respect he deserves.” He went to turn away, then added, “Oh, and another thing. If you are staying with us, you need to start contributing to the groceries at least, and that means having a job, like the one Steve tried to set you up with today. One way or another, figure it out, man.”

Sam turned away to face the parking lot and headquarters in the distance. He didn't want to look at Steve's weird boyfriend right now.

Bucky said nothing, didn't even move.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Sam got out his phone to text Romanoff. _Someone better take me to dinner tonight_ , he typed. _Preferably with beers. Lots of beers._

She texted back within thirty seconds. _Clint says he'll take us if you have 'juicy gossip'._

Sam rolled his eyes, but he texted back the affirmative.

Clint really needed to get a hobby.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve felt like he was getting away with murder today; not only had he managed to avoid Fury, but when he saw Hill she assured him that he wasn't being blamed for Bucky's disappearance. In fact, even more surprising, she said they'd been impressed with how well he'd worked under pressure, staying at his post for the most part and remaining calm.

Steve wasn't sure _calm_ was accurate, more like... subdued shock at having found Bucky out at sea with a fishtail where his legs should be.

Yeah, shock was more like it.

But he didn't tell Hill that, he merely swallowed hard and tried to skirt around the details as best he could without lying to her face, and assured her Bucky understood now not to do that again.

(He hoped.)

So instead of the reprimand he'd expected, Steve left the back office having been praised by his captain, with the thought of Bucky's extraordinary transformations still fresh in his mind, feeling like he must've stepped into The Twilight Zone somehow.

He slipped out of the upstairs office and back down to the garage. He didn't want to keep Sam waiting, and he was anxious to get back to Bucky.

They weren't in the garage, or outside, so Steve headed over to the jeep. Two figures were sitting up front, and Steve smiled with relief when he got close enough to see Bucky with Sam.

“Hey,” he greeted, coming around to the open driver's side.

Sam got out, handed Steve the key. “You take the jeep, man. I'm going out to eat.”

Steve was a little surprised at the abruptness, but Sam was already hoisting his bag and walking away.

“See you later, Steve,” he called, saluting over his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. Have a nice dinner!” Steve turned to get in the jeep. “Okay, kinda weird,” he muttered to himself.

Maybe Sam had a date or something.

Steve got into the driver's seat and shut the door. He checked his bag was on the back-seat, then reached for his seat-belt. “Hey,” he turned to face Bucky as he clicked the seat-belt in, “how about we–” He stopped short when he saw Bucky's expression. “Buck? What's wrong?”

Bucky bit his lip, frowned sadly. “Steve...”

“Yes? What is it?” Steve reached for Bucky's hand. “Bucky?”

“Steve,” he sighed. “I can... stay in the water.”

“What?” Steve squeezed Bucky's hand in alarm, couldn't understand what he was hearing. “What are you talking about?”

“I...” Bucky hesitated, looked at Steve. His eyes were watery, like he was upset.

“Bucky, please,” Steve choked out. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Bucky nodded. “If... if it's better for you... I'll wait in the water for you, and... and...” He swallowed.

“ _What?_ ” Steve couldn't believe this. “Why would I want you to want in the water for me?”

Bucky looked down, biting his lip again.

Steve had no idea where all this was suddenly coming from. “Why would you...”

Then he thought, _oh_. Sam's sudden departure, Bucky penitent manner.

“Okay, hold up.” Steve exhaled deeply. “Sam said something, didn't he?”

The way Bucky screwed his face up in concentration, like he was unsure if he should talk or not, almost made Steve smile. “Bucky, listen to me.” Steve covered Bucky's hand with both of his, and held it between them. “If any of my friends said anything, it's only because they're looking out for me. They mean well, but they don't know what's going on between you and me, okay? They don't know we already talked and straightened things out. And they certainly don't know about... Well, you know.”

Bucky didn't say anything, but he did meet Steve's eyes finally.

“Bucky.” Steve sighed. “Please don't go. Just... stay with me tonight, and you can tell me how often you need to leave, or whatever it is you need to do, okay? We'll deal with it. We'll work it out all, I promise.”

Bucky thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Great!” Steve kissed their joined hands, relieved. “Now, let's grab something to eat, because I'm starved.”

 

Steve drove them up to Venice, to a little Italian pizzeria that he knew did take out. He brought two large pizzas back to the jeep, gave them to Bucky so he could eat straight away. He ate a couple slices himself quickly while they were parked. Then he drove them up to his favorite grocery store, and parked there. Groceries were a must, and Steve wanted to get it out the way while Bucky was distracted with pizza.

“Bucky,” he said, pulling on his blue sweater, “I won't be gone long, and I need you to stay right here. Got it?”

Bucky hummed absently, but really, with two full pizza boxes piled on his lap, he was engrossed. Steve smiled to himself, and got out of the jeep, leaving Bucky to his feast.

Steve entered the grocery store, grabbed a trolley and did the quickest dash round the aisles he could ever remember doing. He mostly picked up essentials, and some of Sam's favourites; that orange juice with the bits in that he liked, and his favourite potato chips.

Lots of pizzas too, which would hopefully keep Bucky happy.

When Steve swung round to the check-out, he looked out the window to see if Bucky was still in the jeep –he'd deliberately parked close– and thankfully he was exactly where Steve had left him, mostly obscured by the open pizza box. Steve smiled fondly, and started loading his food onto the conveyor.

The young person on check-out, chewing on gum, smiled at Steve. “Like pizza, huh?” they asked, noting the stack of frozen pizzas.

“Love 'em,” Steve replied, and glanced out the window at Bucky once more.

As soon as he was done, he took his bags outside and loaded them into the trunk. Then he sat up front with Bucky.

“Any left for me?” Steve asked.

Bucky handed Steve a box, and surprisingly there were a few slices left.

“Oh, I picked up some snacks for you.” Steve held a slice of pizza in one hand, and pulled a bag of candy from his pocket with the other. “Here.” He handed it over to Bucky, who sort of squeezed and shook the bag until Steve tried to advise, “Like, pinch the top... Yeah, then pull...”

Bucky bit a corner and ripped the top open with his teeth.

“Or do that, I guess.” Steve sat back and ate his pizza slice, watching Bucky with interest.

It was a bag of chocolate covered popping candy. Steve had picked it up on a whim, and it was absolutely worth it to see the look of confused horror that appeared on Bucky's face two mouthfuls in.

Steve smothered his laugh in his free hand. He heard the faint pops of the candy, louder when Bucky opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue in distaste. Steve laughed pretty hard at that.

And Bucky still ate the whole packet before they got home.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky seemed more content back at the apartment, Steve thought. Or maybe he just had another of his pizza hangovers.

They finished off the pizzas together, plus a few snacks, in the kitchen as Steve unpacked the chilled food. He left a bunch of snacks on the counter top in the hopes Sam would find them later and know they were for him.

It was warm indoors, especially out of the chill evening air. Bucky wrestled himself free of the borrowed t-shirt, and untied his hair. Steve watched him fondly, still feeling like he wasn't sure which reality he'd stepped into, especially after today.

Watching Bucky now, all heavy lidded and sleepy, running a hand through his hair to smooth it out, Steve would've sworn that Bucky was just like anyone else.

Incredibly hot, of course...

And a bit _unconventional_ , perhaps...

But still normal. Still _human_. What Steve had seen today must've been hallucinations. Being out in the sun, it played tricks on the mind.

Surely Bucky wasn't...

Steve cleared his throat. “Buck, do you want a shower? Or crash out?”

Bucky looked at him in confusion. “Crash...?”

“Um, I mean rest. Rest, sleep, or shower.”

“Shower,” Bucky said with a grin. “With you.”

“Shower it is, then.”

Steve took him to the bathroom, got the shower started. Bucky tugged at Steve's top, so Steve pulled it off over his head. Bucky then reached up to wrap his arms around Steve's shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

They kissed as steam filled the room. Steve held Bucky close, running his hands down the smooth sides of his toned body. “We should... get naked,” he said between kisses. His dick was doing the thinking right now. Steve ran his hands over Bucky's hips, cupped the firm meat of his buttocks as he pulled Bucky against him, grinding their cocks together. “Bucky,” he breathed, ragged. The friction turned him on even more, and the relief at having Bucky here, all to himself, when Steve had been fearful of losing him, made him light headed.

Steve felt at the sarong Bucky wore –he looked pretty damn hot in it, actually– and skimmed his hands on Bucky's thighs, feeling nothing but toned leg muscles through the material. “You're not wearing anything under here, are you?” Steve's fingers found the fringed edge, and felt their way underneath, brushing the soft, smooth skin of Bucky's thighs.

A thought intruded then, wondered on how smooth Bucky's skin was in a lot of places, whereas most guys with his brunet colouring would've had dark body hair.

Steve quelled the thought.

_Did it matter?_

“Okay, c'mon,” Steve muttered, more to himself than Bucky. He made himself focus, and undid the knot on Bucky's sarong, unwrapping the material for him. He herded Bucky into the shower stall, pushed off his own shorts, and got in too. He closed the shower door and adjusted the temperature.

Steve was still hard, but he felt a little... distracted. Before he could address it, Bucky was picking up a bottle and thrusting it at him.

“Shampoo?” Steve took the bottle. “Oh, you want your hair washed, huh?”

Bucky beamed at him, and turned around in preparation.

Steve smiled wryly. “Okay, okay. I can take a hint.” He squeezed a dollop of shampoo into his palm, and replaced the bottle. He eyed Bucky's naked body as he reached up to rub the shampoo into his hair.

Trying not to be too distracted by the sight of Bucky's gorgeously plump butt, or the soft sighs he made, Steve voiced what was on his mind. “Hey, Buck... y'know earlier when you did that thing with your feet? When your skin, uh... changed?”

Bucky hummed in reply.

“Can you... do that anytime? Or just in water?”

Or did I hallucinate, Steve thought.

Bucky hummed again, then breathed in deep. On his exhale, his skin shimmered and Steve watched, mesmerised, as tiny iridescent scales broke out in waves over his body. The texture of them looked hard, smooth, and their color seemed to shimmer and change; one moment blue, the next pearly and pink like his skin.

“Um... oh.” Steve was caught staring. “Can I... touch you?”

“Yes.”

“It won't... I won't hurt you?”

Bucky snorted lightly. “No.”

Steve lowered his hands, sudsy with shampoo, and gingerly touched Bucky's skin. He was still warm to the touch, which... Maybe Steve hadn't expected scales to be warm. They were warm though, and so soft.

Or, no. Perhaps _soft_ wasn't right, Steve thought, as he ran his fingertips across the expanse of Bucky's back, and down his sculpted arms. No, not soft; Bucky felt harder than skin now, but still warm and smooth. Not unlike the feeling of someone wearing a protective wetsuit. A scaly, protective layer.

So...

Definitely not human, a voice nagged at him.

But again, _did it matter?_

Bucky was still beautiful like this, Steve thought. Like a shimmering jewel in human form, and whether Steve was hallucinating or not, he felt more grounded for having touched Bucky now.

Without warning, Steve huffed out a laugh. “Am I still stranded on that beach in the hot sun, waiting for the rescue boat? This all feels like a dream.”

Bucky, it seemed, was not entertaining the same concerns. “Steve, hair,” he instructed.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Steve went back to washing Bucky's hair, catching any drips before the shampoo went in his eyes. Steve massaged his scalp, getting a good lather going. Bucky groaned happily.

And, Steve was turned on again, his cock begging for attention. So, he rinsed the shampoo out, trying to speed things along.

But Bucky huffed and insisted Steve do a second shampoo, which he did.

“The things I do for you,” he murmured, rinsing Bucky's hair clean a second time. “Body wash now, okay?” He chose a citrus shower gel, squeezed out far too much and rubbed it over Bucky's body. The soap suds made his skin look even more shimmery. Bucky hummed in pleasure, leaning back into the touch as Steve's soapy hands roved all over him.

When Bucky made a sort of _click_ sound between hums, Steve paused for a moment, then asked, “Would you talk in your language again?”

Bucky turned slowly in Steve's arms, faced him and smiled warmly.

He looked... different, somehow, but also still very much his Bucky.

“I'd really like to hear you talk some more,” Steve admitted. “Please?”

Bucky nodded, and raised his hands to touch Steve's shoulders, smoothed them over his biceps then held onto his forearms. Steve held Bucky too, and waited. Bucky nuzzled his face to Steve's neck, and Steve heard the same clicks and trills that he'd made back on the beach.

Now Steve knew what to expect, he listened carefully. It sounded similar to the sounds dolphins or whales made. Steve was no expert, but that was maybe the closest he could liken it to.

He leaned closer to Bucky. “What are you saying?”

Bucked hmmed, and pulled back to look at him. “I'm saying, I'm very happy here with you.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Bucky smiled back.

He looked so happy and so beautiful, Steve couldn't help blurting out, “I love you.”

Bucky watched him, still smiling. “Yes,” he said, like this wasn't news to him.

Steve laughed nervously. “Okay. Uh... I didn't mean to, uh... It's just, I care about you a lot, and–”

“Steve.” Bucky said, serious. “I feel the same as you. I love you.”

“Oh.” Steve felt the grin take over his whole face. “That's... that's great. I... Wow.”

Bucky raised one hand, cupped the side of Steve's face and guided him in for a kiss. Steve lost himself in warm soft lips and the wet slide of tongue against his. He held Bucky close and kissed him thoroughly.

When Steve heard the clicking sound again from Bucky, he broke the kiss enough to ask, “Say it for me in your language?”

Bucky smiled, and let out a long, high pitched click. It sounded soft, just before it went too high for Steve's ears to hear.

Suddenly the shower stall rattled and lines cracked through the glass. Steve started in alarm, as did Bucky, who fell silent. They held each other as spider-web cracks lengthened through the glass door, but thankfully it didn't shatter.

The water kept running like nothing was wrong. Steve's heart raced with adrenalin, but at least they were okay.

Except, now the shower door had huge cracks in it. He groaned. “Shit.” He'd have to get it replaced. “Okay, um. Better stick to English indoors, I guess. Okay, Bucky?”

Bucky looked at him solemnly. “Sorry, Steve.”

“No, it's my fault. Don't worry,” Steve insisted. “I'd better fix it before Sam gets home.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Steve?”

Steve looked over at Bucky, sitting on his bed, wrapped in towels. He'd hidden his scales again, and was only showing skin. He looked a little sheepish.

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve closed the bedroom door, took his robe off. He'd just finished fixing tape on the cracks of the shower door, and left a post-it note for Sam promising he'd get it fixed soon.

Bucky fidgeted on the bed. Steve came and sat with him, used the small towel around his shoulders to pat his damp hair dry.

“The glass... is valuable?”

“What? You mean, the shower?” Steve tried not to think about it. He could only just afford groceries, never mind big bills like a new shower door. “It's okay, Bucky. It was an accident. I'll speak to the landlord first and see what they say. I mean, it wasn't brand new... Maybe they'll just replace it.” Steve draped Bucky's hair towel on the back of a chair, then tried to take his larger towel. “C'mon, Buck, you'll catch a cold if you stay in wet towels.”

Bucky moved, and Steve hung that towel up too. Then he got into the bed with Bucky and pulled the covers over them both. They were naked, warm, and Steve's dick was so hard it could've pounded nails. He pulled Bucky to him, skin sliding against skin, limbs tangling together, and kissed him.

Bucky kissed him back, matching Steve's fervour. But then he was pulling back, asking, “How valuable?”

Steve's brain was _not_ online, and he floundered. “Wha... Huh?”

“The door,” Bucky said. “And food? They are...” He pursed his lips, shiny from kisses. “Expensive?”

“Uh...” Steve didn't know why this conversation was happening right now. “Yeah, kind of. Everything costs money, Bucky.”

“Money,” he repeated. “Coins?”

“Um, yeah. But we mostly use paper now, or bank transfers.” Steve tried to kiss him, but Bucky pulled back with a frown.

“ _Paper?_ ”

“Yeah, paper money.” Steve had to smile. “I can show you later.”

Bucky considered this, then nodded. “Yes, show me.”

“I will,” Steve promised. “Can we kiss now?”

Bucky grinned, and leaned toward Steve. The make-out resumed, slow and languid, and building in pace. Steve needed this rush of endorphins; needed Bucky like he needed air. “Want you,” he breathed, kissing down Bucky's neck. “Need you.”

Bucky hummed lightly, the vibration of it on Steve's lips as he kissed Bucky's throat. Steve kissed lower, mouthed over his collarbone and onto his chest. His tongue swirled around first one nipple, then the other. Bucky arched under the touch, let Steve suck on his nipples. A shiver went through him, and he moved like he was impatient, but Steve stilled him.

“May I?” he asked, moving down Bucky's body, trailing his tongue over soft skin. Bucky's hard cock sat on his lower abdomen, curving up to his belly button. Steve shifted as Bucky parted his legs for him, so Steve could settle there. He pushed the bed covers off, and braced his weight on his elbows.

Steve leaned down and took Bucky's thick cock into his mouth, let the engorged flesh fill his mouth until it nudged at the back of his throat. Bucky strained and tensed under him, writhed back on the sheets with a soft gasp. He whimpered when Steve slid his mouth back up his cock and released it with a wet pop.

“You like that?”

Bucky whimpered again, reached down and gripped onto Steve's hair lightly, trying to guide him where he wanted him.

Steve smiled. “I take it that's a yes.” He used one hand to hold Bucky's cock, pointed it at his mouth, then flicked his tongue back and forth over the tip.

Bucky tensed almost immediately, and judging from the soft grunts and moans he made, he liked it a lot. Steve didn't torture him too long, he was too turned on himself for that, so he took Bucky into his mouth again and sucked up and down his shaft, not fast enough to make him come, but enough to get him real close.

Bucky held onto Steve's hair, opened his legs wider and then wrapped them around Steve's shoulders like he couldn't keep still. Steve popped his mouth off Bucky's cock, and licked down to his tight balls. Steve licked at them, sucked on them one by one. Then he pushed Bucky's thighs further apart so he could get lower, and swiped his tongue over Bucky's hole.

Bucky tensed again, his buttocks clenching, but he let Steve take control. Steve needed this, needed to be in charge. He pushed at Bucky's legs, pushed them up to bring his hips in closer, and Steve closed his mouth over Bucky's hole. He swirled his tongue around the rim of velvety soft flesh, pushed the tip of his tongue inside. Bucky let out a cry, but he hung onto Steve's head, held him close. Steve buried his face in and used his tongue to open Bucky up, get him wet and ready. Bucky rocked his hips into Steve's mouth as he tensed and writhed against him.

When Steve needed to open him up more, he had to get up and pick out the lube from the nightstand. Steve dribbled the lubricant onto his fingers, lowered his hand to Bucky's hole and pushed one finger straight in.

Bucky lay back and let Steve finger him open. He nodded vigorously when Steve asked, “Okay?”

Steve slid two fingers in and out of Bucky's hole, tried to avoid his prostate because of how close he was already; Bucky's cock glistened with spit and beads of pre-come at the head. Steve wanted to be inside him when he came.

Finally Steve removed his fingers, spread the rest of the lube over his cock and lined it up to Bucky's entrance. He looked at Bucky to check he was ready, and was blown away at how wrecked and how damn _hot_ Bucky looked, all laid back and open for him, his dark hair dishevelled and his cheeks flushed pink. Bucky nodded at him, and Steve pressed the head of his cock into that tight rim, into Bucky's ass.

Bucky exhaled slowly as Steve penetrated him. His face scrunched a little, but he tilted his hips more and let out a groan as Steve slid in further.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasped, pushing in deep. Bucky felt so tight, clamping down on his cock. “Just... ah.” He shifted closer, hooked his arms under Bucky's knees to lift him and angle his hips so his cock could slide in even deeper. Bucky went with it, let Steve fuck into him. He reached up to hold onto Steve's arms, grunting lightly as Steve started moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered, his orgasm looming close already. He slowed his pace, slowed it right down. Bucky felt too damn good. Steve bent down, wanting to kiss him, and Bucky leaned up enough for their lips to meet. They made out sloppily, and Steve tried to regain control of himself. “Fuck, you feel good,” he breathed, thrusting in slow, almost gentle. “So good.”

Bucky licked his lips, watching him. Steve looked into his eyes as he fucked him, gaining speed. He huffed with the exertion, wanting to simply tumble over the edge, but not before his partner did.

“You gonna come for me, gorgeous?” Steve wrapped a hand around Bucky's cock, smeared the pre-come over the shaft and started to jack him in time with his thrusts. Bucky bowed under him as he arched his back, his fingers gripping the skin of Steve's arms. His eyes squeezed shut as his mouth opened on a silent 'oh', and he tensed hard as he came, spilling come over Steve's fist and clamping down tight on his cock.

Steve held fast, and kept jerking him through it, milking the last drops out of him until Bucky went boneless, gasping for breath. Then Steve told him, “Hold on.” He shifted his knees, lifted Bucky's legs higher and started pounding into him hard. Bucky grunted softly as each thrust hit home, and then Steve was gasping, a shaky moan escaping him as his orgasm approached rapidly, tipping him over the edge. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, coming hard, giving in to the pleasure. He kept thrusting as he shot his come deep inside Bucky, then looked down to watch his cock as he pulled out almost to the tip. He was still pumping out thick spurts of come, and he pushed back in again with a groan, riding out his orgasm as long as he could.

Steve wanted to keep going all night, didn't want to lose this feeling of being so close. But finally he had to pull out, too sensitive to stay in Bucky's tight ass any longer. He pulled out gently and moved over, settling beside Bucky in the bed. They were both wrecked and covered in their own come.

And the one dampener on the evening was that now the shower leaked, so cleaning up would be a pain.

Steve rolled over, kissed Bucky on his forehead, then reached for one of the towels from earlier. “This may have to do,” he said, cleaning them both up quickly. Then he got under the covers with him and fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky was pulled from sleep by an anxious dream. Not his, as the dream started in a high powered boat. Then, leaning over the side of the boat to search the water. Bucky saw himself in the water, his blue tail and fins, his pearly skin and his long dark hair.

It was a little strange to see himself through the eyes of another; stranger still to feel such worry, such panic that belonged to someone else.

Bucky's eyes opened, and he sat up to lean over Steve and check on him. His mate was sound asleep, and must've been dreaming.

This wasn't the first time Bucky had felt another's dreams, but the dreams of marine life were more about survival. No creature had ever dreamed so solely of _him_ before.

Bucky felt that guilty sensation set in again. He'd honestly had no idea how worried Steve had been today.

He curled into his mate, wrapping limbs around him like an octopus clinging to driftwood. He breathed in deep and started to hum softly, bits of some human songs he'd heard sung on ships late at night. He hummed to his mate to soothe him, and lull them both back to sleep.

It almost worked.

Just before the gentle darkness of sleep carried him under, Bucky saw in his mind's eye the flash of a knife pointing at Steve, and heard the sharp bang of a gunshot echoing through a cave.

Bucky sat up sharply, wide awake again, but the vision had slipped away. His heart hammered, and he stared down at Steve, still asleep, as he tried to calm himself.

He had to think. Steve could be in danger, and soon. Bucky had to protect him... although from what, it was unclear. Knives and guns had no will of their own, so it had to be a human wielding them.

As disconcerting as premonitions could be, Bucky felt they were a warning, a universal signal to _prepare_.

Bucky frowned in determination. He had to be on his guard. There was no way he'd let anyone hurt Steve. He'd just have to watch over him wherever he went, on land and on water.

Bucky could do that. He _had_ to.

How hard could it be?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
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> ~ ~ ~
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> Yeah, how hard can looking out for Steve Rogers be...? He's about to find out!
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> Coming up: Grumpy Bodyguard Bucky, and the 'valuable replacements' that may quite possibly end up getting them all into some trouble, in classic Baywatch style. ^.^
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>    
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Another Day At The Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *scuttles out from under rock, posts update*  
> *scuttles back under rock again*
> 
> ~

  

 

 

Sam yawned as he entered the kitchen.

Seemed he was the first up.

He switched on the coffee, got milk and butter from the refrigerator, and went to start breakfast. He opened the drawer for cutlery, searching for a knife.

No knives.

Sam looked at the sink, but no knives were in sight.

He stared at the cutlery drawer in confusion. Where were all the knives? Even the butter knife was missing. Sam searched the other drawers and all the cupboards.

Nothing.

He grunted to himself and ended up spreading butter on his toast with the back of a spoon.

If this was someone's idea of a joke, he wasn't laughing.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky was somewhat stressed. He'd crept out of bed earlier and hidden all the knives he could find, so there was no immediate danger to Steve like he'd seen in his vision. Bucky had searched for a gun too, but had found none in the dwelling.

So he'd gone back to Steve's bed, and when Steve had woken up from his blaring alarm clock, Bucky had tried to distract Steve with more sex. But despite his best efforts, Steve was still determined to get up and _do things_ , which suggested he was leaving.

Bucky did not approve.

Steve went to shower, so Bucky went with him, frowning until Steve coaxed him into the shower and washed his hair for him.

That was nice and soothing.

Or it was, until Steve went back to his room again. Bucky followed, hands on his hips as he watched Steve get dressed –the full uniform this time, with the shirt and pants– and talked to someone on his handheld device.

"Yeah, Carol," he was saying, "if you get the time, I'd appreciate it. Yeah, just for today. Okay, bye." He ended the call, looked at Bucky. "So... the other lieutenant can stop by today and free up some time for me. I could come back here for a couple hours, and we could–"

"I'm going with you," Bucky told him.

Steve had been dropping hints all morning that he wanted Bucky to stay home.

"Buck, I gotta work," Steve said, sounding tired. "You really want to sit in my office with me all day, getting bored?"

"Um... no," Bucky admitted reluctantly. "Why can't you _stay_?"

"I gotta work, it's my job. It pays the bills." Steve gestured around at the room. "It pays for my apartment. I can't _not_ go in, Bucky."

Steve seemed adamant. Bucky didn't understand; why not simply go somewhere he didn't have to be restricted by rules? Humans were strange. Out in the ocean, Bucky went where he wanted.

He wasn't about to let Steve out of his sight though.

"Okay," he said. "I will come too."

"Not naked, you're not," Steve muttered, searching their discarded clothes from last night. "You have to wear something."

Bucky rolled his eyes. More rules. "I don't _need_ clothes," he pointed out. But when Steve found that pretty skirt Wanda had given him, Bucky relented. "I like that," he said, as Steve held it out.

"Good, 'cause you gotta wear something."

Bucky raised his arms, and waited.

Steve chuffed a laugh. "I hope you're not expecting me to put this on you? I don't know how to tie them."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "I should ask Sam?"

"No!" Steve said in a hurry. "No, let's... Let me." He got close and shook out the material, bent down so he could wrap it around Bucky's waist. "Okay," he muttered, "so... Wait, that's way too long."

Bucky lowered his hands to Steve's head, carding his fingers in his short blond hair. "Steve," he said softly, aiming for seductive.

Steve wasn't paying attention. "Wait, I think if I... yeah, I'll fold it in half first before I wrap it round." He raised up again to fold the material, ignoring Bucky's advances.

Bucky folded his arms in defeat and frowned. Today was going to be difficult, he could feel it.

Steve finally organised the material, and wrapped it around Bucky's waist once more.

"There." Steve tied it securely at his hip and smiled. "Have to say, you look amazing in this." Then he caught Bucky's look, and his smile faded. "Bucky, don't pout. C'mon, let's find you a shirt, and get some breakfast."

Bucky didn't want a shirt, he was already at a satisfactory temperature, but he accepted one of Steve's, with no sleeves, only because it smelled like him.

He followed Steve to the kitchen, where Sam was already sat eating.

"Oh, hey," Steve greeted him. "If you saw the shower already, I'll get it fixed, I promise."

Sam finished what he was chewing, then asked flatly, "Where are all the knives?"

"Huh?" Steve seemed confused.

Sam frowned at Bucky, then looked back to Steve. "All the knives, Steve. I had to butter my toast with a _spoon_."

"I don't understand." Steve moved to check a drawer, then another. "Where _are_ all the knives?" he asked, looking in the sink. "Huh."

Slowly, Steve looked to Bucky.

"Um... Buck? Do you know where the knives are?"

Bucky kept his expression neutral, shrugged lightly. Then he sat down in a chair and waited for Steve to feed him more of that delicious human food.

"Um..." Steve blinked, glanced to Sam. "I'll... pick up some more."

Bucky frowned to himself. No, that was _not_ what he wanted, dammit, Steve.

"Who wants eggs?" Steve offered.

Bucky raised his hand.

"One for eggs," Steve said, picking out a pan. "Sam?"

Sam was watching Bucky closely, which Bucky was doing his best to ignore.

"Nah, man, I'm good." Sam got up, cleared away his dishes. "Gonna shower before we leave."

"Okay," Steve said, contrite. "Sorry about the shower... and, er. Other stuff." He cleared his throat. "I'll sort it all out, okay?"

Sam nodded silently as he left the room. He glanced over his shoulder at Bucky, sending him a warning look.

Bucky frowned back, confused. Surely Sam wasn't a threat? Or maybe Sam just didn't like him being here and taking the knives away?

He'd have to get used to it, Bucky thought. Until this threat to Steve had passed, Bucky wouldn't let him near any knives or guns at all.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The drive to work was... tense.

There'd been a few pointed looks between Sam and Bucky that morning, although why, Steve wasn't sure. Either it was leftover discourse from yesterday or... something new, perhaps.

They'd all got in the jeep, Sam driving and Steve up front with him. Bucky was in the back, wriggling around and nudging Sam's seat.

Again, Steve wasn't sure what they were up to, unless Sam had intentionally moved his seat back to box Bucky in.

Sam would never be that petty though, surely?

Bucky squirmed his way across the seat to sit behind Steve instead, and Steve reminded him to wear his seatbelt.

They finally arrived at Baywatch HQ, parked in the lot, and grabbed their bags.

"He coming too?" Sam asked, glancing over to where Bucky was stretching out his limbs, yawning wide. He had refused to wear shoes, so he was barefoot on the concrete.

Steve tried to act like things were normal. "Yeah, he's... um, yeah."

Sam sighed and walked on ahead.

Steve went to take Bucky's hand. "C'mon, Buck. You can have coffee in my office."

Bucky went from yawning to immediately alert at the mention of coffee.

Steve had to smile.

"Now, look," he said, leading Bucky across the lot, "remember this is my place of work. There's rules of behavior, so you need to be good and not wander off, okay? You gotta do exactly as I tell you."

"Okay," Bucky agreed, holding onto Steve's hand. "Steve? I'm hungry."

"What? We just ate, how can you be hungry?"

Bucky shrugged, then shot a pleading look at Steve.

"Alright, alright." Steve suppressed a sigh.

Jeez, Bucky sure ate a lot.

"I'll get you some food."

Steve looked ahead to where Sam was marching off on his own, and frowned in thought.

He should talk to Sam today, make sure he was okay with all this.

 

~ ~ ~

 

"Have you asked Hope out on a date yet?" Clint asked, leaning back in his seat. He chuckled when Scott spluttered into his coffee.

"Dude!" Scott hissed. "Not so loud, she's right over there."

"Quit dodging the question," Clint told him.

"Maybe I already have," Scott shot back.

Clint laughed, hard.

Scott looked even more embarrassed.

" _Must_ you laugh so loud in the morning?" Pietro complained, coming to sit on the edge of the comms desk, until Clint swatted at him.

"No butts on comms!"

Pietro stood up with an eye roll. "But it isn't even turned on yet," he pointed out.

"No butts," Clint said.

Wanda came to join them, and then Coulson wandered over with a stack of paperwork. He pointedly looked at his watch. "Anyone seen Lieutenant Rogers?"

"Not yet," Clint said, just as Sam walked in. "Hey, look. Sam's here. Steve's gotta be..."

He trailed off as their new lieutenant walked in, hand in hand with his long haired, buff boyfriend, who was in a flower printed sarong.

Clint grinned. "There he is. Morning!" he called out, as one by one heads turned to stare.

All the staff had already been hanging around the control room, waiting for the morning huddle, but on Steve's entrance everyone clearly decided this was far more entertaining.

Steve seemed reluctant to be the center of attention, and only said a quick hello before making a beeline for his office, tugging the boy toy along behind him.

He shut the door after them, and started having a low conversation, too quiet to overhear.

The guards present all gathered closer to the comms desk on the pretence of waiting for the huddle. Everyone just wanted to know what Steve Rogers was up to with his mystery man.

Coulson sat down in his chair next to Clint. He looked shell shocked. "Is that Steve's...?"

"Yes," Wanda said.

"And they're...?"

"Yep," Clint confirmed, grinning wide. "If you're lucky, Coulson, he'll tell us all about it during the huddle."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve shut them in the office away from the gawping looks of his colleagues. He adjusted the blinds to give them some privacy, and turned to Bucky to tell him to stay put.

Except Bucky pulled Steve into a kiss, licking into his mouth and pressing his body up close.

Steve kissed back, distracted. Kissing Bucky always felt amazing, but the added thrill of making out in his office, with everyone just outside, that was something else. It felt pretty awesome.

Steve knew he had to stop, before he got too carried away and they started dry humping on his desk. "Um. Buck." Steve broke the kiss, held his eager partner at arm's length. "I gotta work. Can you please stay in here for a few minutes?"

Bucky frowned, displeased.

Steve quickly resorted to bribes. "If you wait here, I'll get you food, and coffee."

Bucky's frown shifted; he raised an eyebrow like he was considering it.

Steve would just have to take the chance. He backed away slowly. "Now, you stay _here_ ," he indicated the room, "just for a few minutes, okay? I'm gonna go talk to those people outside, then I'll be right back. Okay, Bucky?"

Bucky stayed put, but he didn't look happy about it.

"Please, Buck, do it for me?" Steve fumbled for the door. "Just a few minutes." He exited the room, shut Bucky inside with an exhale of relief, then turned around.

All eyes were on him, every member of the Baywatch day shift watching him expectantly, some with shit-eating grins.

Steve pressed his lips together, hoped his mouth didn't look suspiciously kiss swollen. He straightened up, and strode over to the comms desk. "Pietro," he said, beckoning to the rookie.

"Yes, boss." Pietro came over, and Steve pulled him aside, hopefully out of earshot.

"Pietro, I need you to head onto the sand..." Steve took some notes from his wallet, handed them over. "Whatever food cart is open, or if that sandwich guy is there yet, buy a bunch of food and come back here."

"Okay," Pietro agreed. "Hey, Lieutenant? Can I get tower eighteen today? My friends hang out there."

"Towers are already assigned," Steve told him, "and you're here to work, not hang out. Come straight back to my office, and be quick."

"Okay, okay." Pietro saluted, and made to leave.

Steve turned back to his team, and approached the comms desk.

Clint was grinning. "Hey, man. How's it going?"

Steve tried not to side eye Clint too much. He already knew he'd be getting shit today, particularly from Clint, so he'd just have to power through it.

"Good morning," he greeted, then looked to Coulson. "Have you got the--"

Coulson wordlessly handed over the briefing sheet. He looked kinda pale.

"Thanks." Steve took the sheet, and decided to just get on with it, seeing as everyone was already huddled around. The quicker he briefed and then dispersed them, the better.

"Right, good morning!" he said, raising his voice to address the team. "Not as hot today, hopefully won't be as busy as yesterday was..."

"Mm hmm," Clint hummed pointedly, and Steve had to will his face not to flush.

He'd walked right into that one, after the whole of beach ops had been sent on a wild goose chase for Bucky.

That would _not_ be happening today, not if Steve could help it.

He quickly cleared his throat.

"Exceptional performances yesterday," he went on. "I want to see the same dedication to your jobs again today. Remember preventions! Preventions can save just as many lives as rescues. Your assignments..."

Steve caught sight of Sharon, next to one of the other seasonals, and it threw him for a second.

Especially when Sharon smiled at him.

"Uh... your assignments are already posted. The junior guards will join us over lunch again, to help watch the water." Steve glanced down at the paper to read the next bulletin... and sighed quietly to himself.

He cleared his throat, announced, "Due to a... uh, increased number of nudity incidents on the beach, County want to... um, crack down–"

Snickers rippled around the room.

"–on any nudity," Steve continued, "so they've issued a reminder that swim suits must be worn at all times on sand and in the water."

"A little louder for the people in the back, Lieutenant," Clint said, prompting some giggles.

Steve was positive Clint was referring to Bucky and his naked arrival at HQ, but he was determined to breeze past the banter.

"I'm sure everyone heard," Steve said firmly. "Okay, folks, that's it. Have a good day, be _safe_. Oh, and one more thing. There's a list of commendable performances for yesterday. If I call your name, come see me or Phil at some point today." He read from the sheet. "Natasha. Hope. Scott. And..." Steve looked up, scanning faces. "Sam. Sam Wilson." He searched for Sam in the crowd of guards. "Great job, guys. You do us all proud."

He couldn't see Sam, and the huddle was breaking up. People moved to exit the control room, off to their assignments for the day on the beach or in rescue boats.

Steve wasn't sure where Sam was assigned, but it was probably a tower. "Sam?" he called out, still looking.

"Think he left already," Clint said. He and Coulson had swivelled around in their seats to fire up the comms desk.

"Oh... right." Steve knew Sam liked to be punctual, but this felt like avoidance.

He'd really have to talk to Sam.

And probably Sharon too, especially after that altercation on the beach yesterday.

Steve was about to look to see if Sharon was still in the room, when he noticed _Bucky_ lurking near Scott, hands on his hips and glaring at people one by one.

What was with him today?

Steve marched over there. "Bucky," said under his breath, "I told you to stay in the office."

Bucky looked at him, eyebrow hiking up like he thought Steve was being ridiculous.

Before Steve could respond, Scott said, "Hey, you guys wanna set up a volleyball team? I think we got a shot at competing in the tournament if Bucky's with us."

"Uh, yeah... maybe," Steve said absently. "We can talk about it later." He tried to take Bucky's hand. "Buck, can you–"

"Hey, Steve!" Clint called across the room. "I got a copy of the nudity briefing!" He waved a sheet of paper in the air. "Thought your friend there would wanna take a look!"

The control room went silent.

Coulson face-palmed, tried to cover it up by putting his headphones on.

"That's hilarious," Steve said flatly. He walked back to the desk and took the paper from Clint, folded it into squares then tossed it back on Clint's desk. "Less joking, more work, Barton."

Clint raised his wrist, tapped his watch. "Eight minutes until shift starts, Lieutenant. Keep your shirt on."

That got a snicker from several people, until Steve turned to fix them all with a look.

Scott approached the desk, and he had Bucky with him. Wanda, Natasha and Hope had also moved in. These weren't just colleagues, these were Steve's friends, and he realised out of those here, only Wanda and Scott had met Bucky.

"Uh, guys," Steve began, feeling shy, "this is Bucky. He'll be hanging out here with me today."

"Better than in the water," Hope said with a smirk. She reached past Scott and held out her hand. "Hi, it's good to meet you."

Bucky just looked at her and her outstretched hand.

Steve tried not to panic.

"Bucky," he prompted gently, as everyone watched. Even Coulson and Clint had turned around to observe. "We, uh, shake hands to say hello. Remember? Hope is my friend."

Bucky still looked perplexed, but he carefully took Hope's hand and held it.

Hope was a good sport about it, and smiled as Bucky held her hand. He frowned, like he was concentrating over something. Eventually he seemed satisfied, nodded, and let Hope have her hand back.

Natasha, smiling in amusement, offered her hand next. "I'm Natasha."

Bucky held her hand too, not saying anything, just frowning mildly and staring into the middle distance.

People started side eyeing each other.

Steve wasn't sure what to do. He had no idea what Bucky was up to, hoped he wouldn't start communicating in his _clicks_ or anything.

Next, Bucky wanted to hold Scott's hand.

"Oh, dude, we already met, remember we..." Scott let Bucky hold his hand. "Okay. Holding hands now. This isn't awkward at all."

Bucky did the same thing with Scott, simply held his hand. Natasha, meanwhile, asked, "Where did you and Steve meet?"

Bucky didn't look like he was paying attention, thankfully, but Steve still hurried to say, "Shift's about to start, people. Time to get moving."

Natasha shot him a wry look, which Steve ignored.

"Don't forget volleyball," Scott said, extracting his hand and going for a manly slap on the shoulder as he edged away from Bucky. "See ya later!"

When the guards had left the desk, all headed downstairs, Bucky turned his attention to Coulson and Clint.

Clint was already waiting, and held his hand out to Bucky. "So, where you from, man?"

"Clint, we need to concentrate on the beach," Steve tried.

Bucky released Clint's hand, satisfied, and stepped over to Coulson next.

Coulson looked uncomfortable, and that in itself was pretty funny. Steve had to stifle a grin as he watched.

Clint was, as ever, less tactful. "It's all right, Coulson," he remarked, "pretty sure the hot dude won't hurt you. Just let him hold your hand."

"Wait," Steve said, "did you just call Bucky hot?"

Clint shrugged. "I have eyes."

Coulson was pale in the face as Bucky took his offered hand, and looked relieved when it was over.

Bucky turned to Steve and nodded like... he was giving his approval? Steve really didn't know.

"Okay," he said, because now they really had to get on with beach ops. "Now all the intros are done, we need to finish set up. Guys, check that the comms are open in..." He looked at the desk clock. "Two minutes."

The control room door swung open as someone strode in. Steve barely had a chance to see it was T'Challa, the beach sergeant, before Bucky grabbed him in a tackle and pulled him down behind the comms desk.

Steve landed heavily on Bucky, who took the brunt of the impact on the hard floor. "What the hell?" Steve tried to get up, ended up grappling with Bucky who was trying to keep him on the floor. "Bucky!"

Clint slowly peered over the desk, blinking at them. "You okay?"

Steve wasn't okay, he was mortified. "Bucky, what are you–"

"Steve, he has a gun!" Bucky held fistfuls of Steve's shirt, his eyes fearful.

_Oh._

Steve stopped struggling, sagged. Could today honestly get any more embarrassing?

"Yeah, Buck," Steve explained, "he has a gun. T'Challa polices the beach. He always carries one, and he won't hurt us."

Bucky still didn't want to let him up. "Guns are _dangerous_ ," he whispered, staring into Steve's eyes, like he wanted him to understand something.

Steve didn't know what to do. Bucky had already met T'Challa when he'd been picked up on the beach three days ago, and he hadn't seemed to have a problem then.

"He a vet?" Clint piped up. "Because that would explain a lot. Just sayin'."

"Clint, not now," Steve said.

"Steve? You okay?" T'Challa called across the room. "Do you need me to leave?"

"Uh... Yeah!" Steve called back. "Can you head downstairs and I'll catch you in the break room in a minute?"

"No problem," T'Challa said. "I need coffee anyway."

Bucky looked up at the mention of coffee.

Steve sighed. "Bucky, c'mon. Let's get off the floor."

Once T'Challa had left the room, Bucky relented and got up off the floor, offering a hand to Steve.

When he pulled Steve upright like he weighed no more than a feather, Steve was once again reminded that Bucky wasn't one of them, and he was operating on a whole different playing field.

"Okay," Steve said gently, more to himself than to Bucky. "Everything's fine. Let's all stay calm."

Bucky looked concerned, though less so than a moment ago.

Clint was back in his seat, flicking switches to activate the comms and go live. "Can't wait till your boy meets Fury," he commented.

Steve ignored him. He had to figure out a way to explain to Bucky how things were, without arousing too much suspicion from the others.

The doors swung open again, this time Pietro strolled in, swinging a bag of food in his hand. "Hey, guys. What'd I miss?"

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky allowed Steve to lead him downstairs. There was the promise of food in the bag Steve carried, and Bucky was ravenous. He'd used up his energy screening all Steve's friends of their intent, holding their hand and feeling what they felt.

But they were all good people, so the threat wasn't coming from them.

In the break room, the officer with the gun, T'Challa, was sat at the table drinking coffee.

Bucky really wanted coffee.

"Steve," T'Challa greeted, eyes on the pair of them as they approached.

"Hey," Steve forced a smile. "Sorry about that. Bucky was... er, concerned, but I explained you're a police officer, and our friend."

T'Challa nodded, and looked to Bucky. "You good?"

Bucky held his hand out in the human greeting, and thought he could gage for sure what T'Challa's intentions were.

He accepted Bucky's hand and they shook, and all Bucky got from him was good intentions and a sense of duty to others.

Bucky nodded, relieved, as they let go.

"Okay, great," Steve said, relieved. "Glad that's all cleared up."

Bucky felt light headed all of a sudden, and dizzy. He grabbed for a chair and sat heavily, closing his eyes.

He'd used up too much energy out of water, and he was starting to feel it.

"Bucky?" Steve placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Hungry," Bucky murmured. "Tired."

"You want the food?" Steve sat the bag in front of Bucky on the table, ripped it open to reveal two stacked sandwiches.

Bucky peered at them with interest, and picked one half up in his hand. His grip was weak, but the food would help.

"I'll get you some water," Steve said, hurrying to the sink.

T'Challa sat back and studied Bucky closely. "Have you been in the sun? Could be heat stroke."

Bucky concentrated on eating the food, shoving it in his mouth and moaning softly. Salty meat and creamy soft cheese. Human food was really good.

Steve brought a glass of water over to the table, hovering at Bucky's side. "Maybe a bit too much sun yesterday," he said. "You feel okay, Buck?"

Bucky nodded. He'd be fine, once he got back in the water.

He made short work of the sandwiches, and the glass of water. "Swim," he said, looking to Steve, who got a worried look on his face.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should stay here a while?"

Bucky gave him a serious look. "I need to swim."

"Oh... right." Steve frowned in thought, like he was trying to figure Bucky out.

T'Challa sipped his coffee and watched them.

"You want me to come with you?" Steve offered.

Bucky smiled, amused. Steve thought he needed help.

"I'm okay," he said. "Can I swim close?"

"Close? You mean close to base?"

Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, of course you can. If I take you back up top, there's steps that lead down directly onto the sand, and then the water. You can stay in the shallows?"

"Yes," Bucky agreed. That sounded like the best plan for now.

"You wanna go now?" Steve asked, then glanced at T'Challa. "Sorry, Sergeant. I won't be long. Is there anything urgent you needed me for?"

T'Challa waved a hand. "No, just some updates. Nothing that can't wait."

"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes then." Steve hovered at Bucky's side, offered him a hand.

Bucky took his hand, holding on gratefully and smiling when he felt the love and concern flowing into him.

Steve led him away as Bucky snugged in close to Steve's side, hindering his walking a bit.

"Buck," he whispered, "I'm real worried. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just tired," he whispered back. "Better in the water."

Steve held him close as they reached the stairs. "I guess that makes sense. Look, I'll show you where you can swim, and I'll be able to see you from the control room. Will you please stay in sight?"

"Yes," Bucky agreed.

He wanted to keep Steve in sight too.

~

 

Bucky floated on his back in the water, soaking up the sun. He felt better in the water, even if it was in the shallows. He'd stayed within sight of Steve's building, the tower with glass windows. If Bucky shielded his eyes against the sun and squinted enough he could make out Steve's shape now and then as he wandered back and forth.

Bucky was starting to feel Steve's presence again, now that he had his strength back.

Unfortunately, he also felt the presence of all the annoying humans splashing about in the water too, sometimes quite close to him and very loud, which was highly irritating.

This was exactly why Bucky would avoided beaches, there were far too many humans.

He huffed and dropped his feet down to touch the sandy bottom, his toes digging into the dirt. He stood in the water, sculling his hands for balance, and staring at the tower where Steve was.

At least Bucky could have eyes on Steve here. If he'd known this yesterday, then he wouldn't have swam off for so long; he could've come right up the beach to where Steve was.

Bucky studied the people on the beach, either sun bathing or walking back and forth all the time, but no threats seemed imminent. No guns, no knives, no bad intentions. And no caves.

Still, Bucky was on his guard.

He pointed his hands and dived gently forward, slipping into the calm cradle of the water for a few blissful moments before he swam back to the beach. He stood up from the shallows, water dripping off his skin, and clinging to the material skirt he wore.

Clothes were an inconvenience but Bucky needed this skirt for the beach, apparently.

He stepped onto the warm sand and walked up the beach, weaving through humans laying about on their towels.

When he glanced to the nearest lifeguard tower, the first of the little wooden huts set along the beach, Bucky wondered if Wanda was in one of those. Maybe he could go and find her.

Squinting in the sun reminded Bucky about the lost sunglasses.

He frowned to himself, scanning the beach as he walked. His gaze fixed on three humans who hadn't been there when he'd left for the water. Men in colorful clothes and sunglasses, in possession of some kind of clothing stand.

Bucky had seen many similar trading posts on different beaches, and what caught his eye was the rack of sunglasses glinting in the sun.

He changed course and made a beeline for them.

"Hey, buddy!" One man greeted, over familiar. "What you looking for? I can see you're only half dressed, well, don't you worry! We got plenty to set you up with!"

Bucky gave him an assessing look, but the man seemed amiable.

His two companions were decidedly more shifty, and they eyed Bucky warily.

Bucky ignored them, and pointed to the sunglasses.

"You want sunglasses?" The first guy asked. "Hey, Kurt," he gestured to his companion, "pass 'em over."

"May I recommend a designer t-shirt to go with them?" The other man said.

Suddenly Bucky found himself in the middle of being bartered at. Three different voices and accents all talking at once, and shoving wares at him to see. It was very noisy.

"Just-"

The sunglasses, he'd been about to say, before a tray of shiny bracelets caught his eye.

He leaned in, ignoring the humans as he inspected the accessories.

"He likes Dave's lady things," one of the men said.

"Luis, don't dis my shit in front of a customer."

"I don't think he speaks English, man," the one called Luis said. "Hey, buddy, how about those sunglasses then?"

Bucky blinked, and looked back at the sunglasses as they were shoved under his nose again. He didn't have much to barter with, and he definitely didn't have money. But seeing the shiny jewellery had given him an idea.

"Value?" Bucky asked, indicating to the sunglasses.

This prompted a lot of talk, most of which Bucky didn't understand, so he tried again, trying to get his human words together.

"The value," he said. "How much?"

"Oh, well the top range is still a very good price," Luis babbled quickly, "but for you, my friend, I'll give you the deal of the day. Twenty bucks a pair."

Bucky frowned. He didn't understand that either.

"How much?" he repeated, staring the human in the eyes.

"I mean, ten! Ten for you," he stammered.

He appeared to be getting nervous. Bucky didn't want that, so with one last glance at the wares, he nodded decisively.

"I will be back."

Then he turned and walked away, making a beeline to the tower.

 

Back at the mobile stall, Luis raised his eyebrows at Kurt and Dave.

"So, listen, am I losing my touch, or was he just weird?"

"Weird," Dave said.

Kurt nodded in agreement. "A little weird, yes."

 

~

 

Bucky marched up the wooden steps of the tower that led to the upper deck, not unlike being on a ship. Lifeguards in red bathing suits milled about, but they were all busy either coming or going, or watching the beach with binoculars.

Bucky weaved past them too, and slipped through the thin doors and inside the tower.

Steve was in the same place Bucky had left him, standing over the desk where two of his colleagues sat, all of them talking to radios.

Bucky didn't understand why humans made themselves so busy all the time.

"Steve," he said, stepping up to him.

"Hey, Buck," Steve said, distracted and only giving him a quick smile.

"Steve," Bucky tried again, "I am going to swim."

"Okay, Buck, that's fine." Steve was busy reading from a clipboard.

"For a longer swim," Bucky clarified.

Steve did look at him then, and Bucky felt a ripple of worry.

"And come back," Bucky added, to make sure Steve didn't panic.

Steve nodded, then set down the clipboard and took Bucky aside. "So you're saying, you're going for a swim in open water?"

Bucky nodded.

Steve breathed in carefully. "And you're coming straight back?"

"Yes." Bucky reached for Steve's hand, and felt his worry more acutely when they touched.

Bucky frowned in thought. _Steve_ was the one who could be in danger, and Bucky was the one who was nervous. Yet right now, all was peaceful. He had no way of knowing when his vision would come true. He had to wait it out, and in the meantime, he had things to do.

"I will not be long, Steve."

"Okay, Buck," Steve breathed. "Okay." He flashed another smile, shy this time.

Bucky smiled in return. "I can bring you food?"

"Er, you mean lunch?" Steve glanced at his watch. "I'll have a lunch break in just over an hour. But I'll get the food, Buck. Come join me downstairs in the break room if you want."

Bucky smiled, nodded. And waited. He didn't want to latch onto Steve in front of all his colleagues and make him more nervous, so he waited for Steve to say the goodbye.

"Okay, um." Steve shifted from foot to foot. "I'd better get back to work."

Bucky tried not to feel disappointed, and was about to step away before the older blond at the desk butted in, "Rogers, give him a goodbye kiss, already."

Steve looked alarmed, but from the amused smiles from his colleagues, it didn't seem to be anything to be alarmed about.

Bucky smiled and stayed put, and leaned in slightly.

Steve's cheeks flushed pink, but he smiled and leaned in to kiss Bucky on the lips, chaste and brief.

Bucky grinned and decided he was happy with that.

"You stay here," he told Steve before he left.

"Yep, that's pretty much my job description," Steve said dryly. "See you later."

 

Steve stepped back toward the desk, glancing up to watch Bucky saunter out of the office. His ass looked amazing in that sarong.

Eyes drifting back to his clipboard, Steve tried to get into work mode, when he noticed both Clint and Phil smirking at him.

"What," he said flatly.

Coulson just smiled, but Clint waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Come on, guys, back to work," Steve said, but he was fighting a smile.

It was actually kinda nice having Bucky drop in.

 

~

 

Once Bucky had waded out far enough to get underwater and swim, he stayed submerged until he got far enough from the beach that he could spread out his senses, using the water as his eyes and ears.

But nothing out of the ordinary drew his attention.

So strange, but sometimes the visions he had made little sense. It was frustrating.

Steve was safe on land for now, and that was his main concern.

Bucky shifted into his mer-form and breathed in deeply, drawing in his energy from the ocean. He shifted again, bringing up the shield of a dolphin around himself, then beat his tail and swam out to sea.

Bucky's destination was amongst the islands, not far from where he'd deposited Steve three days ago. There had been a shipwreck on the rocks some time ago, and its contents had been steadily drifting out on the current over the years, some of it washing up near the islands. Bucky had noticed, but never gave it much thought, until today.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve checked the rota, looking for when Sam would be on his break. He saw that Sam would be switching duties afterwards, so it was likely he'd come back to headquarters to eat.

Steve waited it out, and stayed up top at the control desk or in his office. At least the day was running smoother than yesterday, and he was able to get a lot of work done.

At one PM Steve waited for a suitable lull in operations; Clint and Phil were more than experienced enough to deal with the calls that came through. Steve announced he was going to get a coffee, and casually made his way downstairs.

He said hello to a couple of guards as he passed the weights room, then spotted Sam sitting at the table in the kitchen area, eating a sub.

"Hey," Steve said, headed to the coffee pot. A quick glance told him Sam already had a cup. "Need a top up?"

Sam shook his head, finished his mouthful of food. "No, I'm good."

Steve poured himself a cup, stirred in some creamer for something to do. "Good day?"

"Yeah," Sam said, scrunching up the wrapper as he finished his sandwich. "Better than yesterday anyway."

Steve shifted awkwardly, then brought his cup over to the table. "Mind if I sit?" he asked.

"Sure."

Steve sat, and looked at his coffee as he thought about what to say.

Sam was his best friend, the most loyal person Steve had ever known. It wasn't like them to feel awkward around each other.

But then Steve had never been in a situation quite like this before. He owed it to Sam as a friend, and a room-mate, to make this right.

He breathed in, let it out steadily. "Sam, I'm sorry about yesterday. Bucky is too, and he knows not to do it again."

Sam was quiet, and looked at Steve calmly like he was waiting for more. He always had a knack for making Steve talk.

"Uh... I guess I haven't... I mean," Steve faltered, "I'm sorry I kinda let him move in without asking you first."

"Is that what he's doing?" Sam asked.

"Well, I don't think he has anywhere else that's... um, suitable," Steve said.

"I hope you're not planning on giving him a free ride," Sam said, an edge in his voice.

"No," Steve said. "No, of course not. It'll be fair, he'll have to... I mean, once I figure out what kind of work he can do..." He sighed. "I think all the people on the beach yesterday freaked him out a bit, that's why he disappeared."

"Mm hm. Well, he needs money from somewhere, man. Why don't you see if he can get unemployment checks or something?"

"Uh..." Steve tried to school his features. "Yeah, I can look into it."

Although he doubted very much that Bucky would be registered anywhere.

Then again, Bucky did keep surprising him.

"I'll figure it out, Sam. I promise. And I'll fix the shower."

Sam's lips quirked at that. "I don't even wanna know how that happened."

"Uh... Yeah." Steve willed his face not to flush.

Sam exhaled quietly and said, "So. You really like the guy?"

"I..." Steve was really flushing now. "I do. Yes."

"And what about him?"

"He feels the same," Steve told him. "He actually--"

Steve stopped himself when a guard strolled into the kitchen, headed for the refrigerator.

"Actually what?" Sam prompted.

Steve was bursting to tell Sam that Bucky had saved him from drowning as a kid. But what if that just brought up more questions? And put Bucky at risk?

Steve fumbled, "He, um, he's very special."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

After a beat passed, he nodded solemnly. "You deserve to be happy, Steve. But, and I say this as your friend, just look after yourself, okay?"

Steve nodded in agreement; Sam was trying to look out for him, that was all. "Of course," he said, hoping that eventually Sam and Bucky could get along. "It'll be fine, I promise."

"Sure." Sam checked his watch. "I gotta go switch out with the rescue boat."

"Right, okay." Steve stood up when Sam did, feeling awkward again. "Hey, Sam?"

He waited until Sam looked at him before he said, "Thank you."

Sam nodded, giving a small smile in return. "No sweat."

"How about I make dinner for us all later this week?" Steve suggested. "Or a barbecue? Let's have a barbecue."

"Can we afford a barbecue?" Sam asked.

"My treat," Steve offered, thinking about his credit card balance. "I want to say thanks for putting up with me."

Sam smiled for real this time. "Man, you don't have to barbecue your way into my good books, but I won't say no either. Why don't we invite people and tell them each to bring a dish?"

"Sounds good," Steve agreed. "Maybe Sunday, after work?"

"Sunday it is."

"Great!" Steve grinned, and was about to turn around when Sharon stepped in beside him.

"Hey," she greeted, hands up. "No coffee spill this time."

Steve managed not to drop his mug of coffee. "Sharon. Hey."

"Hey." She smiled up at him.

Sam looked between the two of them, then grabbed his bag and jacket. "I'm out. See you later."

"Um, bye, Sam," Steve said.

Sharon looked around the kitchen pointedly then raised her eyebrows at Steve. "No body guard today?"

"Uh." Steve shifted, and hoped to God that Bucky didn't suddenly materialise in the break room. "He's having a swim."

"Closer to shore this time, I hope," Sharon said with a laugh.

Steve smiled tightly. "Yeah... he's an experienced swimmer but his English isn't... great."

"I see." Sharon nodded along. "So are you two...?"

"We're seeing each other," Steve confirmed.

Sharon kept nodding, eyes dropping to the floor. "Figured as much, after he nearly glared a hole right through me on the beach yesterday."

"He wouldn't do anything," Steve hurried to say, "he just... It just wasn't a good time."

"Yeah, I got that." She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry."

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, and when Steve started to speak Sharon also spoke.

"So, we're having--"

"I wanted to--"

Steve stopped, gestured for her to continue.

"No, no," Sharon flapped her hand, "what were you going to say?"

"Oh, well, I'm... I mean, we're having a barbecue on Sunday. Wanna come?"

"I'd love to," Sharon sighed, "but I'm seeing relatives at the weekend. Birthday, you know."

"Oh." Steve tried to think if she meant her own. "One of theirs?"

"Yeah, their birthday," Sharon said. "Okay, so... I don't have many free days here, and I just wondered if you're free for dinner later after your shift? I thought we could... You know, have that conversation we never had? Have some closure?"

"Oh..." Steve wasn't sure how he felt about that, other than terrified.

Talking about feelings was _not_ his favorite thing to do.

"Okay," he found himself saying. "I'd better, uh... check with Bucky first."

"Sure." Sharon smiled wanly. "I'll probably see you about this afternoon anyway. I'm down for beach patrol and then a tower later."

"Right, yes. Sure," Steve said. "I'll, uh, see you later."

"Bye, Steve."

"Bye!" Steve took his coffee and hurried back up top, taking a deep breath in as he approached the control desk.

"Please tell me there's something important and time consuming that needs my attention," he said to Clint, who was lounging back in his chair.

"Um, not yet." Clint grinned up at him. "Want me to invent one?"

"No, but I'll keep it in mind," Steve replied. "Okay, well, I'll be in my office if you need me."

"No sweat, Lieutenant." Clint saluted lazily. "I'll send your boy in if he reappears."

Steve gave Clint a look. "He's hardly a boy, and his name is Bucky."

Clint just chuckled.

"We're having a barbecue on Sunday," Steve told him, changing the subject. "Bring a dish."

"Cool. Will do," Clint said. "Ambrosia salad good?"

Steve was fairly sure Clint was joking, and would show up with a stack of ribs and burgers. "Sure, Clint. Whatever you want."

Absently he wondered what Bucky would make of barbecued food. He couldn't wait to tell him about it.

 

 

~ 

 

 


	6. Looking For Treasure

 

 

Wanda peered through the binoculars, scanning the beach and its busy afternoon crowd. Sunbathers, swimmers, people everywhere.

The noise was only a murmur over the ocean sounds; the waves, wind, and gulls.

Wanda looked at the swimmers in the shallows, but all was good there.

A dark blot in the water caught her eye, and she focused her binoculars out in the water.

A swimmer, further out than they should be. Wanda was about to raise the alarm, when she looked again at the head and shoulders bobbing in the waves.

Was that _Bucky?_

She watched, and though he didn't seem to be moving --despite that dangerous ocean current so far out-- he appeared to be scanning the beach.

Acting on instinct, Wanda grabbed for her red floatie and held it high above her head, waving it back and forth.

She tried to hold the binoculars with one hand to watch him, and was relieved to see that Bucky spotted her. He swam forward, his thick arms cutting through the water easily until he got into the shallows.

Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, and watched as he waded out from the water, headed toward her.

He was wearing a necklace, she noticed, and a bracelet.

Wanda didn't think more of it until Bucky strolled in up to her tower on the sand, smiling happily as he came up the wooden gangplank.

He still had on the sarong, thank God. And Wanda stared in shock at the long pearl necklace that swung in place around Bucky's neck, and the vintage gold cuff on his wrist.

"Are those yours?" Wanda asked. "They look real."

Bucky grinned at her, then he lifted the pearl necklace over his head and held it out to her.

"For me?" she gasped.

Bucky nodded, handing over the pearls. Then he removed the bracelet and gave her that too.

"Oh, my God," Wanda breathed, staring at the jewellery in her hands.

It had to be worth a fortune.

"Bucky, I don't know what to say. Thank you."

Bucky smiled wide, rocking back on his heels like he was pleased.

"But where did they come from?" She asked.

He waved a hand, like it was unimportant. "Underwater," he said, which made Wanda frown in confusion.

Before she could question him further, Bucky pointed at the jewellery and asked, "These? Are ten bucks?"

Wanda's eyes nearly bugged out. "What? But they look so real."

Bucky shrugged. "They are... enough for ten bucks? I need to get the sunglasses. Sunglasses are ten bucks."

"Oh. Um." Wanda wasn't sure what he was planning. Selling vintage jewellery? "I'd say these are more than ten bucks, way more."

Bucky seemed satisfied with that, nodding once. "Good. Wanda, where is Sam?"

"Sam? I think he went back to base."

Bucky waited, a hopeful expression on his face.

"You want to see Sam?" she guessed.

Bucky nodded.

"I can ask?" Wanda went to the wall mounted telephone, and when Bucky nodded in reply, she lifted the receiver.

Clint picked up on the second ring, so they couldn't have been too busy in the Hive.

"Hey, Clint," she greeted. "Can you tell me where Sam is?"

"Certainly can do," Clint replied, relaxed as ever. "He just headed out in Rescue One, they should be opposite tower twelve. Want me to radio him?"

"No, that's okay," Wanda said, "just needed his location. I'll see you later."

"Ten four," Clint replied before ending the call.

Wanda replaced the receiver and turned back to Bucky. "Sam is out on the rescue boat. A little over that way." She pointed left. "Three towers over."

Bucky looked at where she pointed, but Wanda wasn't sure how much he understood.

"It's dangerous to swim out that far," she told him. "But if you go to the pier you should be able to see him."

Bucky blinked at her like he was trying to follow, then nodded his head. "I will get sunglasses," he stated, then turned to go.

Wanda called after him, "There's no hurry, okay? Just whenever."

Bucky waved to acknowledge he'd heard, and stepped down onto the sand.

Wanda watched him stalk along the beach, until the crowd swallowed him up. Then she looked down at the jewellery in her hands.

This stuff was real, it looked too good to be fake. Wanda stashed them in her sports bag, then got out her cell to text her brother, _You won't believe what I've got!!!_

 

~ ~ ~

 

Sam breathed in the ocean air, sitting just offshore in Rescue One and enjoying some relative peace and quiet.

All he had to do was hang tight in the oversized dinghy for another twenty-five minutes, pick up Scott from tower nineteen, then do a patrol of the shoreline.

Rescue boats had to sit in the water all day, ready to rush in for any rescues needed nearby.

Aside from a minor rescue earlier when a couple drifted out too far and Sam took them back in, it was shaping up to be a calm afternoon.

The slap and scrabble of someone hauling themselves into the boat made Sam leap up in alarm, wobbling precariously on his feet as the boat bobbed on the waves.

He stared in shock as Bucky swung a leg over the side, and half sat on the edge of the dinghy with his other leg still in the water. He flipped his wet hair back, and grinned at Sam, holding up two lobsters by their tails.

Sam stared. "What the..."

Bucky waved the lobsters, and only when one of them snapped its claws did Sam realise they were still alive.

"Shit! What are you doing with--"

He watched in horror as Bucky broke each lobster in half with his hands, like they were nothing more than soft loaves of bread. Their shells snapped, exposing the pink meat inside, and Bucky held one out to Sam.

"Food," he said, setting it down on the seat.

Sam could only watch as Bucky tore into the other one, eating it raw from its shell. He looked up at Sam to smile with his mouth full, faltering a little when he noticed Sam wasn't eating.

Bucky swallowed, and lowered his lobster. "It's fresh?" he said, seeming unsure of himself.

Sam didn't know what to do.

For starters, why was Bucky swimming around out here on his own again?

"Man... does Steve know you're out here?"

The guilty look on Bucky's face said it all.

"Okay," Sam sighed. "I'm taking your ass back to shore."

He stared down at the lobster, still in shock over it.

"Where did you get these? I hope you're not liberating them from lobster nets."

Bucky screwed his face up, like Sam had asked a stupid question. "I catch them. I eat them," he stated.

"Right." Sam eyed him, and Bucky looked back with a confused expression until his shoulders slumped.

"You don't like them," he said quietly.

And damn if Sam didn't feel bad now.

"I... er, already ate," he fumbled. "Sorry."

Bucky nodded, and gathered the second lobster into his lap.

Sam wasn't sure if he planned to eat them both, and he didn't particularly want to watch.

Then an idea occurred to him. "Hey, we're going to be eating together on Sunday, having a barbecue. It was Steve's idea. Why don't you bring lobsters or whatever you want then? We can cook them like civilised people."

Bucky looked up, interested. "When?"

"Sunday."

"Sun day?"

"Yeah, this Sunday."

Bucky glanced up into the sunny skies. "Sun day?"

"Er... in three days," Sam amended.

Jeez, where was this guy from anyway?

"Three," Bucky repeated, nodding. "Yes. I will bring food."

"Right, cool." Sam went to turn away, to get the boat started, when Bucky said his name.

Sam turned back to him, saw the guy holding out a dirty gold coin in his fingers.

"This is ten bucks?" he asked.

Sam stared, leaned a bit closer. "Man, what is that? You find it in the water?"

He opened his hand and Bucky gave it to him.

"Yes, water," Bucky said. "It will help for food? For home?"

"Huh?" Sam was busy examining the coin.

A real gold coin.

He turned it over in his fingers, amazed. "This could be worth something you know. But it probably belongs to someone, these things are always missing and catalogued from any shipwrecks in the area. People go looking for this stuff."

Bucky shrugged, like it didn't concern him.

"Back in the old days," Sam went on, "mostly white people stole this stuff from other people, then sold it on. So, technically, it should go back to where it came from. But it doesn't always work out that way."

Bucky listened, nodding solemnly. "Humans," he muttered.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, then huffed a laugh. "C'mon, man. Let's get you back to Steve before he gets worried."

He started the boat, glancing at Bucky. "You better come sit down, this goes pretty fast."

Bucky did as he was told, and sat inside. Sam eased the boat around before gunning the engine, headed to base.

"You never know," he raised his voice over the engine noise and the wind chopping past them, "you might get a reward for turning that coin in!"

 

He steered them into shore, close to headquarters. Bucky seemed to spot something on the sand, and stood up to point.

"Sunglasses," he announced.

"Huh?" Sam cut the engine, slowing the boat, and looked across the beach. He scanned the crowds, trying to see what Bucky was pointing to. There were too many people in the way, but Sam figured he meant those mobile t-shirt stands that Scott's room-mate Luis wheeled up and down the beach during summer. The tops of the stands were just visible over the beach goers.

"Look, man," Sam said seriously, "have a walk around, but don't take too long until you see Steve, alright? If you had a phone this wouldn't be a problem. So promise me you'll go see Steve."

Bucky nodded seriously. "Yes, Steve. I will go."

"Okay. Good."

Bucky smiled tentatively, and Sam found it hard not to warm to him.

"Look, thanks for the lobster. We can eat it another..." He glanced around the boat. "Where'd it go?"

"I ate." Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "I can bring more?"

"Uh... okay?" Sam didn't want to ask if Bucky had eaten the shells too. "Bring 'em on Sunday. If we leave early enough I can take you out in the boat to catch some."

Bucky smiled, wider this time.

Then he hopped up onto the side of the dinghy and slid off into the water with a gentle splosh.

Sam got up to lean over the side, but the sonnuva bitch had already disappeared.

"Bye, Sam!" Bucky's voice called, and Sam turned around in the boat to see him swimming lazily on his back toward the shore, feet kicking the water. He grinned and waved, and after a quiet sigh to himself, Sam waved back.

"Man," he muttered, "this shit will turn me gray early."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky waded out of the water, surf breaking over his legs. He really wanted to keep swimming, but he had errands to run.

He wasn't used to errands on land. Everything took so much longer to get around, and it was frustrating.

The sarong slipped down his waist, and Bucky had to hitch it back up, pulling out the coins he'd tucked into the knot earlier.

He strode up the beach with a quick glance at Steve's building, then headed for the men with the sunglasses.

As he approached their stand, one of them spotted him and started elbowing the other two.

The man who'd talked to him before, Luis, stood straighter when he saw Bucky. "Oh, uh... hey man," he said nervously. "You still want those sunglasses?"

Bucky nodded, and extended his hand palm up to offer the coins. "Enough?" he asked.

"What you got there, bro?" Luis curiously took one coin and examined it.

Humans were so very interested in coins, Bucky thought.

The two companions leant in, trying to look at the coin until Luis held it close to his chest. "I think it's real," he said in a hushed voice, then turned back to Bucky with a wide smile on his face. "Hey, man! I'll give you _two_ pairs of sunglasses. How about that for a fair deal?"

Bucky nodded in agreement. For one coin he could get two items? That was fortuitous.

He perused the sunglasses and selected a pair for Wanda, then a pair for himself with a useful beaded strap so he could wear them like a necklace.

The other two men were eagerly suggesting more accessories to go with his purchase, and Bucky looked over their wares, pointing to things he wanted to see; a large orange flower on a clip, sparkly plastic bracelets on elastic bands, and big clunky metal watches like the kind Steve wore.

Bucky parted with all his coins in exchange for a selection of items.

He walked away down the sand with a spring in his step, Luis waving after him and calling out, "Come back any time, man!"

Bucky clipped the flower in his hair, and slipped the three watches onto one wrist, and all his shiny colorful bracelets onto the other wrist.

Then he headed over to the steps of Steve's building to find Steve and check up on him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve was sat at his desk, writing and filing reports that needed to be done before the end of the day.

It was kind of boring though.

He tapped his pen absently on the desk as he read over a request he'd drafted to County for updated equipment and more staff.

When a figure slipped inside the office and shut the door, Steve looked up and was relieved to see Bucky.

"Hey, Buck. Where'd you..." He trailed off as he looked Bucky over. "Who took you shopping?"

Bucky appeared to think on that, before answering, "Luis."

"Ah, I see. He's Scott's room-mate, by the way."

"Room... mate?" Bucky repeated, quirking a brow.

"Yeah." Steve figured Bucky didn't know that term. He set his pen down and leant back in his chair. "You hungry? Want something to eat?"

Bucky shook his head. "I had food." He stalked across the floor to the desk, and Steve's heart skipped a beat as he thought Bucky was coming for him.

Bucky zeroed in on the mug of coffee, scooping it up from the desk and drinking it greedily.

"I guess they don't serve coffee underwater," Steve said, quietly amused. "You know, Buck, that stuff can get addictive. Just to warn you."

Bucky had already finished the mug, set it back down. Now he focused on Steve, sliding his butt onto the desk to sit there.

"Wait, hang on..." Steve quickly moved his paper reports out of the way. Bucky was still a little wet from the water. "You're a menace," Steve said half heartedly, unable to tear his eyes from staring at Bucky's body on display right in front of him; his hard abs and his thick thighs.

Bucky grinned, and raised his foot to rest on Steve's chair. He pushed lightly, nudging the swivel chair.

"Um. Buck." Steve glanced at the door and the windows. The blinds were still down from earlier, thank God, but anyone could walk in right now.

It was a little bit thrilling.

Steve reached out to stroke his fingers up Bucky's bare legs, until he got to the trimmed hem of the sarong.

"You're so gorgeous," he said, feeling breathless all of a sudden.

How he wanted to just take Bucky right there on his desk, or in his chair...

But he couldn't do that. He had to be responsible.

Bucky tugged on Steve's hands to pull him in, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss. Steve's resolve ebbed away, and he lost a few moments to blissfully making out.

When his dick stirred with interest, Steve knew he had to pull back. He broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily.

"Not here, Buck," he panted. "I'll get in trouble."

Bucky frowned lightly, like he didn't understand. "Trouble?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to be working." Steve extracted himself carefully and moved back in his chair.

Bucky rolled his eyes and swung his feet down to the floor. "Your working is boring," he declared.

Steve couldn't help a laugh. "I guess this part is," he admitted. "If I finish up these reports I can take the truck out on the sand for patrol. You wanna come with me?"

Bucky's eyes widened in alarm. "Patrol what?"

"Just the beach."

"No," Bucky said firmly. "You stay. Safe here. I will go patrol."

"What?" Steve sat up straighter. "What are _you_ patrolling?"

"You." Bucky stood and planted his hands on his hips. "I patrol here."

"Oh-kay." Steve wondered if this had something to do with Bucky's panic about guns and threats earlier. "It's perfectly safe here, Buck. I'm fine."

Bucky nodded. "Yes. You stay."

And with that he turned to go, stalking out of the office and closing the door after him.

Steve sat there a little blown away, and it was only after he tried to get back to his report that he realised he still had to tell Bucky about his dinner with Sharon.

Steve dropped his pen again and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I need more coffee," he muttered to himself.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky patrolled the perimeter of Steve's workplace, from the sandy beach round to the parking lot and garage.

Once he figured out he could get back inside the building via the garage, where the yellow trucks and boats were stored, he used that entrance instead of beachside.

He had a feeling his patrols were futile. Whatever the danger to Steve was, it was connected to a cave, and somewhere near water.

Whoever posed the threat had to be out there too, because the only people around Steve right now were good people, or as far as Bucky could tell.

Bucky huffed through his nose, frustrated.

However he did enjoy wearing sunglasses out in the sun, and then letting them hang around his neck on their chain when he didn't need them. Humans did have their uses, he supposed.

Bucky stalked back upstairs to the first floor, back to Steve.

Clint waved him over to the control desk. "Hey, man. Want a donut?"

He had a bag of something, and the smell was enticing. Bucky made a beeline to him, peering into the bag Clint held out.

"Go on, take one," Clint said with a smile. "Hot and tasty."

Bucky gingerly reached in and pulled out a round, glazed piece of food. He examined it curiously, then took a tentative bite.

His eyes widened as the taste hit. "Mmm," he grunted in surprise, taking a bigger bite. "Mmm!"

Clint laughed. "Yeah, I agree. Here, take one to Steve." He reached into the bag and offered another donut.

Bucky took it eagerly, spearing the hole with his finger.

"Thank you," he said, mouth full.

A donut held in each hand, Bucky headed for Steve's office.

"Steve!" he exclaimed. "Donut!"

Steve was talking to someone, a woman with dark hair. They both looked over at Bucky from the stack of papers that were apparently so important.

"Hey, Buck," Steve greeted.

There was a note of apprehension in his voice, and Bucky picked up on it immediately.

"Bucky, this is Captain Maria Hill," Steve introduced him to the woman, then gave him a pointed look. "My boss."

_Boss?_

Bucky didn't understand boss, but he knew what a captain was. He stood straight and was about to salute when he realised he still had a donut in each hand. "Captain," he said, hoping she didn't mind his lack of a salute.

Human customs were complicated.

"You must be Steve's new friend," she said with a smile. "It's good to finally meet you. I hear you're throwing a barbecue on Sunday."

Bucky recognised the words, and nodded. "I'm bringing lobster. Sam is helping."

Maria shot Steve an impressed look. "Lobster? I can't wait. Anyway, Steve, let me take these reports up to County in person, before they all knock off for the day. You know what they're like."

"Yes, of course." Steve helped her collect the papers, and handed them to her.

Maria left the office with a knowing smile and a goodbye.

Steve still looked on edge, so Bucky stepped forward and offered Steve a donut.

"I'm good," Steve declined.

Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he was more than happy to eat both, which he started doing right away, moaning happily.

Steve hovered near his desk, and waited till Bucky had finished eating and licked his fingers clean before he cleared his throat quietly.

"Um... Just for the sake of full disclosure, Buck... Maria and I used to date. It was quite some time ago."

Bucky frowned in thought. "Date?"

"Yeah, like... like me and Sharon did as well. You know, when you're with someone..."

"Oh." Bucky eyed him suspiciously.

What was Steve all anxious about? Maria hadn't seemed interested in him, which was lucky for her.

"Um, speaking of Sharon..." Steve cleared his throat again, and the color was rising in his cheeks. "I spoke to her earlier and she knows now that we're together. You and me, I mean. So, um. There should be no confusion about that. Okay?"

Bucky frowned and folded his arms. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Okay," he said carefully, assessing Steve and the wave of anxious feelings he was sensing from him. "You don't trust her?"

Steve looked up sharply, surprised. "What? No, Sharon is... She's a good person, Buck."

Bucky frowned in thought. That wasn't what he'd meant.

He stepped closer to Steve, unfolded his arms to be more open. "She still wants to be with you," he stated clearly.

"No, that's--" Steve flushed harder, looking adorably flustered.

Bucky smiled at how shy and unassuming his mate was.

"We're just friends now," Steve was saying. "It was a mutual decision and it's much better this way."

Bucky raised a brow to disagree, but chose his words carefully. "She wants you back," he said.

Steve breathed in deep and let it out in a sigh. "Maybe you're right. I've been trying not to think about it."

Bucky wanted to reach out but he hesitated, unsure if Steve wanted to be touched right now. He seemed very distracted by this.

Bucky bit his bottom lip. "But... you will stay with me?"

Steve looked at him earnestly. "Of course I will, Buck. I'm not going anywhere."

Bucky smiled, and reached out to wrap his arms around Steve, pulling him in for an embrace.

Steve allowed it, curled his arms around Bucky and held him tight. He breathed in at Bucky's neck and shoulder, frustration and relief pouring off him in equal measure.

Bucky made a face to himself, unsure how to help. He didn't understand what Steve was so upset about.

When they broke apart, Steve said, "She wants to talk to me later. After work. I said yes, because I feel like maybe this is what she needs to put it behind her. Or something."

Bucky frowned.

That made no sense at all, but humans were overly complicated.

"I can come?" he offered.

"Uh... maybe," Steve said warily. "Let me think about it, okay? I'm sorry, Buck. It's just this once, to clear the air. If she's working here this summer, I don't want to create a bad feeling."

Bucky tilted his head, understanding that sentiment. "Okay," he conceded.

Honestly, he had other things to worry about now, and suddenly Sharon's flirtations, unwelcome as they were, didn't seem like the end of the world.

He patted Steve on his big shoulder. "It will be okay."

 

~ ~ ~

 

"You're pulling my leg," Pietro said, unimpressed. He twirled his red floatie in the air and caught it in his hand. "No way."

Wanda rolled her eyes, and beckoned him into her tower. "Come and look, then."

She showed her brother the jewellery Bucky had given her, and for once Pietro was at a loss for words.

" _See_." Wanda took them back and stashed them in her bag again. "I'm gonna find out how much they're worth and sell them on."

"Wait, he just gave these to you?" Pietro questioned, following her back outside onto the small deck. "Where did he get them?"

"Beats me." Wanda went back to scanning the beach. It was late afternoon, and the crowds had thinned out.

"I swear it was like he swam in from the ocean," she said, "and just happened to have them on him."

"Hm." Pietro pulled a face, thoughtful. "So, he found them underwater. You think if I ask him to show me where he got them, he would?"

Wanda shrugged. "Maybe..."

The thought of more jewellery made her eyes widen at the possibilities.

"What if there's _more?_ "

"Exactly." Pietro grinned. "Let's ask him after shift. Barely two hours to go."

"Yeah, I'm in," Wanda said. "But not a word to anyone else, okay?"

Pietro mimed zipping his lips.

They looked at each other and grinned.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky gazed out to sea through the huge, fixed binoculars.

Really, they were very useful.

He'd come out on the deck to soak in the last of the day's sunshine, and had been people watching until he figured he'd try out binoculars. They were so clever, he could see much further than he normally could.

Maybe he could get a pair, those smaller ones that the lifeguards had. Then he would be able to keep an eye on Steve without being at his side all the time.

Satisfied that there was nothing of note out on the water, Bucky stepped back from the binoculars.

He glanced behind him through the glass windows of the tower, seeing Steve and his light color uniformed shirt stand out. He was by the control desk again, discussing something with Clint.

He was safe.

Bucky leaned his arms on the railing and peered down at the beach directly below. T'Challa had been around earlier, patrolling on an all terrain vehicle. Bucky couldn't see him right now, but he felt better knowing T'Challa was also helping keep the area secure.

Up along the sand, Bucky spotted Luis and his companions packing up their stall and wheeling it along the path that led to the road and parked cars.

Bucky waved, and when they saw him they waved back.

Bucky smiled. These humans were nice. And he liked being up here on the tall tower, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds. It was peaceful here, he could only hear the waves if he focused.

Bucky tilted his face into the sun as his eyes closed.

Bliss.

A sharp whistle made him look in its direction, but it was only Wanda and Pietro, waving as they approached from the beach.

Bucky waved back, and waited for them to walk up the steps and join him on deck. He unhooked the second set of sunglasses from his necklace, holding them out to Wanda.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Thank you, Bucky."

"It's good value?" he asked. He knew they weren't the same shape or color as the ones he'd lost, but he hoped they were equal in value at least.

Wanda's face went through several expressions before settling on a genuine smile. "Honestly, after the gifts you have me earlier, these are just fine."

Bucky nodded, though he didn't understand. Sounded like she didn't like them much after all.

"About that," Pietro said quietly, sliding in at Bucky's side. "I'm feeling all left out of the gift giving, man! And I'd love to see where you picked that jewellery up."

Bucky shrugged. "Found them."

"Where?" Wanda asked.

Bucky pointed out to sea, toward the channel islands.

"Do you think..." Wanda started.

"You can show us?" Pietro finished.

Bucky made a face in thought. He wouldn't mind showing them, he supposed, but he'd have to swim in human form in front of them, and that wouldn't be as much fun for him.

"Bucky," Wanda linked her arm through his, patted his hand, "I'd really appreciate it. Those gifts are amazing, but if there's more it could be very useful for us. For you, too."

Bucky nodded. "Coins."

"Coins?" Pietro echoed. "Are you telling me... Oh, God." He ran his hands through his hair, grinning. "Man, please take us out there. We can borrow a boat real quick. No one needs to know."

Bucky looked between the pair of them, both giving him imploring looks.

"But..." He glanced over toward the windows. "Steve?"

"No, don't tell Steve," Wanda said in a hushed voice. "It's our secret."

"He doesn't want to go without Steve," Pietro guessed. "Dude, the control desk stays on shift way after us. Steve will probably still be in there for another hour, maybe two. You really wanna wait around that long?"

"Oh." Bucky frowned.

Although, if Steve wasn't going anywhere for now, Bucky could pick up more coins for him and Sam. Seeing as he'd foolishly spent them all earlier on stuff he didn't really need.

"How long does it take to get there?" Wanda asked. "In a boat?"

Bucky opened his mouth to reply but... Well, he hadn't been there in a boat.

Instead, he shrugged a shoulder. "Islands," he said, hoping they understood. He didn't know what the humans called them. He'd just have to show them.

"I bet it's near Santa Inéz," Pietro murmured to Wanda. "I've read about the old shipping lanes, and how smugglers would use the channel islands as a drop off point."

"Okay," Wanda murmured back. "Let's get going before sunset. I don't want to be out on the water when it's dark." She pushed at Bucky firmly. "Go tell Steve you're going for a walk with us, or something."

"Walk?"

"Yes, go on."

Bucky took steps to the doors of the control room, and looked back to see Wanda and Pietro making shooing motions at him.

He raised an eyebrow, but opened the door.

Humans were so eager about things that made no sense to him.

Bucky strode up to the desk, tugged on Steve's shirt sleeve.

"Hey, Buck," he said, smiling at him. "You want to eat?"

Bucky did want to eat, but he thought he may as well catch some dinner while he was out in the water.

"I... a walk," he said, fudging his words. "I mean, Wanda and Pietro will take me for a walk."

"Oh?" Steve looked out the windows, spotting the pair of junior guards. "Okay, well... they both have my number, so if you need me they can call me."

Bucky nodded. "And you stay here?"

"Yeah, I'm still working, Buck." He smiled wryly. "No rest for the wicked."

"You're not wicked," Bucky told him.

"No, I know, it's... a figure of speech." Steve touched his arm. "You go have fun, Buck. Make sure you stay with Wanda and Pietro. Give me a call if you need me."

Bucky nodded, though he seriously doubted that Steve would hear him calling once they got out on the water.

"Okay," he said, flashing a smile then turning around to return outside. He waved at Steve through the window, and both Steve and Clint waved back.

"All set?" Pietro asked.

"Yes," Bucky said. "Steve stays here. I will come back."

"That's fine," Wanda assured him. "We'll be real quick. Before it gets dark."

Bucky didn't care about the dark, he just wanted to be back soon to protect Steve from literally everything outside of this tower.

"Come on," Pietro urged, headed to the steps. "Let's go find a boat."

 

~

 

 

 

 


	7. Fool's Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for some canon typical action in this chapter, I've put FULL WARNINGS in the End Notes for this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> ~

 

 

Steve was in his office trying to finish paperwork when Carol strolled in.

"Well, here I am," said the Lieutenant. "Bit later than expected, but you can take the rest of the day off." She approached the desk with a smile. "What's the story anyway? Hot date?"

Steve blinked up at her, floundering. "Uh... no? Actually, Carol, it's not so urgent now."

"Don't tell me I came all the way over here for nothing." She sat in the empty chair across from him. "I heard from Hill that you did a great job on your own yesterday with a missing swimmer. And here's me thinking you'd be lost without me."

Steve gave a wry smile. "Well, it won't be the same without you, but I'll do my best."

"Sure you will. And you've rarely asked for time off in the entire history of your working here at Baywatch, so I knew if you were asking for it today then it had to be important."

"Uh, yeah." Steve felt embarrassed, more so because his reason for needing time off had left with Pietro and Wanda thirty minutes ago.

Maybe he wouldn't mention that part.

"Well, I mean... I am drowning in paperwork, I guess."

"See, I knew you needed me," Carol joked.

A knock on the office door prompted Steve to look up.

Sharon was there, leaning against the door frame. "Is this a bad time?"

"Uh, no," Steve said, clearing his throat. "No, come on in. You've finished your shift?"

"Yeah, all done." Sharon came inside, smiled at Carol. "Hey, Lieutenant. How's it going?"

"Sharon!" Carol declared. "Long time no see." She grinned, looking between the two of them.

Steve was beginning to feel pretty awkward, and he was glad that Bucky wasn't here too.

"What can I do for you, Sharon?" he cut in, trying to take hold of the situation.

"Oh," Sharon said, "I wondered if you were done yet. We could go grab that dinner?"

"Uh," Steve fumbled, wishing he could delay this a bit longer.

"Oh, this is why you wanted time off?" Carol butted in. "Well, I'm here now, Steve. You knock off and take your lady out to dinner."

"She's not--" Steve started to say, at the same time Sharon said, "Oh, no, we're not..."

Carol looked confused, then shrugged and picked up the stack of paperwork from Steve's desk. "Okay, I'm staying out of it. Go on, Steve. Take the time off while you can."

Steve sighed inwardly, but he put on a brave face. "Thank you, Carol. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

He rose from his chair and after an awkward moment said, "I guess I'll go get changed, then."

Sharon nodded, smiling. "I'll be in the break room."

"Right." Steve nodded decisively, then headed downstairs.

He'd already told Bucky he'd have to talk with Sharon, so it would be fine. He could text Wanda and tell her where he was, so Bucky would know if he wanted to find him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The sun was low in the sky but still warm. Bucky leaned over the side of the boat, watching the waves as they cut along the water.

He supposed this was a faster way to run errands. They had taken a motorised dinghy, like the one Sam had been in today, only smaller.

"Am I going the right way?" Pietro called over the noise of the engine.

Bucky looked up to check their course, and nodded. Pietro's guess on the island had been right.

Wanda sat on the other side of the boat, sunglasses on and checking through the bag of diving equipment she'd brought. They'd brought enough for Bucky too, though he didn't want to wear any. Those rubber wetsuits and huge clunky tanks of air were not appealing.

The sun had dipped even lower as they approached the two small islands, and Bucky felt a sudden jolt of warning from the water.

He stood up, alert, and scanned the horizon.

There was nothing to see right now, but Bucky felt their presence as surely as if they were in front of him.

 _Humans_.

"Bucky, what's up?" Wanda asked.

"Wait," Bucky said, stepping close to Pietro and placing his hand on the small steering wheel.

He gently turned them to the right, changing their course.

"You wanna go round the back of the island?" Pietro asked.

"Yes." Bucky was still scanning the waters for danger. "Slow the boat."

Pietro pulled back on the throttle, and the noise of the engine quieted as it slowed down.

Bucky steered them through the reef, aiming for the shallows where a group of rocks would provide ample cover for a small boat.

As they rounded the island, they all spotted the other boat anchored offshore.

"Nice yacht," Pietro said. "Someone's loaded."

Bucky didn't know _yacht_ , but he knew a modern, sleek boat when he saw one. It was deceptively quiet, but there were humans in it, Bucky could feel them.

He cut the engine completely as he steered them past the rocks, hopefully without being seen.

When they got to the shallows, Bucky got out in the water with Pietro and dragged the boat onto the sand.

"You stay," he said quietly. "I'll go look."

"Look?" Pietro questioned. "Look where?"

"The boat," Bucky said, frowning. "Not good. You stay."

"What's going on?" Wanda asked, getting out of the boat to join them.

"He said he wants us to stay here," Pietro said, hands on his hips.

"How come?" Wanda turned big pleading eyes to Bucky. "I thought we were going to look for... you know, the gold things?"

Bucky huffed, impatient. "Other humans already there. Let me check first."

"Oh," Wanda breathed. "That sucks."

"Man," Pietro whined. "Is there more than one site? Where the treasure is?"

Bucky thought, and nodded. "In the reef, with sharks."

By the slight widening of their eyes, Bucky guessed they wouldn't be in a hurry to dive with the sharks. He smirked at that. The reef sharks wouldn't harm them anyway.

"You wait," Bucky said. "I come back."

He turned and headed up the beach.

Though he had no intention of walking across the island, he had to fool Wanda and Pietro into thinking that was what he intended.

Big jutting rocks littered the beach, and Bucky slipped in between these until he was far enough away to step back into the water, diving in quietly and submerging.

He wanted to check out that boat, and underwater was the best way.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve had had his share of awkward moments in life, like most people.

But having dinner with an ex and not knowing what to say certainly ranked up there as _highly_ awkward.

He'd suggested the Sea View Cafe, as it was close to the Hive and more of a casual, family restaurant than an actual restaurant up in Venice.

Steve was already itching to get back to base, but he did his best to sit still and eat his chicken salad.

Sharon had the fish, and was picking at her food.

After another attempt at stilted conversation, she put down her fork and exhaled.

"So..." she started, and Steve tensed in anticipation. He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth as a distraction.

"You're into guys, now?" Sharon asked.

Steve willed himself not to choke on his mouthful. He chewed carefully and swallowed. "That's... not exactly new," he told her. "I've been bisexual for some time."

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "News to me."

"I'm pretty sure I told you early on," Steve said, feeling defensive.

"You were drunk, Steve. I didn't think you actually meant it. I thought you just meant... I don't know, just to _look_ at."

"Well, no. I meant it." Steve picked up his glass of water and drank.

_Talk about awkward._

"Okay." Sharon looked down at her food, sighed. "I guess, now I know."

Steve didn't know what to say to that, so he changed the subject. "How's things with you? Seeing anyone?"

She smiled wryly. "Well, not lately. I was up for a promotion and it means relocating. I just wasn't sure if I should take it."

"Oh, I see. Congratulations. If you take it, I mean."

"Thank you." She looked up at him with a smile. "I think I'll do it. A change should do me good."

"Great!" Steve said. "Chances like that are certainly worth a try."

"You don't miss it?" Sharon asked. "Being in the Forces?"

"Uh, not really," Steve admitted. "I have a team here, and I like being on the beach."

"Fair enough." Sharon seemed genuinely pleased for him. "I just thought I'd ask. You are missed, you know."

"Thanks. I mean, there's things I miss too, but I'm happy here. This is my home."

"Sure. You seem to have things figured out." She glanced down at her food, thoughtful. "When my required lifeguard days are up, I'll tell my superior I'm accepting the promotion. It's based in Europe, so I won't be back this way for some time."

"Oh, right. Uh... Look, we're having a barbecue this Sunday, it was Bucky's idea. Why don't you come? Most of the guards are coming, so you'll know everyone."

"I can't. Visiting relatives, remember? But thank you for the offer."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Steve nodded. "Another time, perhaps."

"Sure. Thanks, Steve."

He smiled, pleased.

Maybe this wasn't so awkward after all.

Someone called his name, and Steve turned to see Sam approaching their table.

"Sam. Hi," Steve said. "Is everything...?"

The look on Sam's face was carefully neutral, and Steve was instantly alert.

"I'm sorry to barge in," Sam said. "I just need a word with Steve, if that's okay?"

Sharon nodded, and Steve got up quickly, banging the table in his haste. "Sorry, Sharon. I'll be back."

He followed Sam through the cafe and outside. The wind had turned cold, blowing in from the ocean, and Steve shivered in his shirt.

"What's up, Sam?"

"Bucky gave me this earlier today." Sam offered something to Steve.

A gold coin.

Steve held it and tested the weight. "Wow. This looks authentic. Bucky gave this to you?"

"Yeah." Sam crossed his arms. "And he's apparently gone off with Wanda and Pietro..."

"Yeah, they went for a walk," Steve said. But the look on Sam's face said otherwise. "They didn't go for a walk?"

"They took the training boat and some diving gear, and took off about ninety minutes ago."

Steve had a sinking feeling as he looked at the coin again.

"Shit," he muttered. "Have you tried their cells? The radio?"

"All turned off," Sam said.

Steve sighed. Just when he thought things were going okay. "All right, I'd better go find them before it gets dark."

Sam nodded. "I'm coming with you."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky swam in human form, as he didn't know how close the humans were. All he knew was he felt more than a dozen strong presences scattered here and there around the island.

Swimming like this was slower, and Bucky had to tamp down his frustration.

He had his scales on against the chill of the water. Now the sun was setting, it was getting cold.

Bucky swam up to the boat that was anchored just off the shallows. The waters were clear, but he detected a smell from the boat, the same smell that fishing boats had; the smell of blood and butchered fish.

Bucky placed his palm on the boat's bow, feeling for the presences of the humans. There were four on board, three below deck and one above. Their intentions were full of greed, and Bucky screwed his face up as he saw visions of their guns and knives, of them catching sharks from this boat and cutting off their fins.

Anger rose in him, and Bucky let go of the boat. He sank down low and took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let loose a sonic boom through the water, calling for any nearby predators.

Bucky opened his eyes and pinpointed where the human on deck was. He willed the water to propel him upwards, and as he broke the surface he drew back his arm with his fist clenched.

The human was caught off guard, staring up at the column of water in shock.

Bucky dropped down and punched him in the face so hard, the man's neck snapped and he crumpled to the deck.

Movement stirred below, and Bucky moved quickly across the deck, water dripping off him.

There was only one entrance to get below, and it was through the cabin. Bucky ducked out of sight and waited by the door. When the first human climbed out, Bucky delivered a swift punch to his head, knocking him out cold.

His companions were right behind him, holding guns. Bucky grabbed the wrist of the closest man aiming his gun, and snapped his arm. He screamed as Bucky pulled him close, used him as a shield as the other man opened fire.

The bullets hit the man Bucky held, and when the shooter ran out of bullets Bucky hurled the body at him, knocking him off balance.

He moved in quick and ended it with a punch to the head, knocking the man out.

It was over, but there were more humans out there on the water. He had to move fast, because these were _not_ good humans.

Bucky lifted each body and tossed them overboard. Sharks circled the boat, and it was only fair that they ate the humans who'd preyed on them. Bucky had no remorse for humans who cut the fins off sharks then tossed them back overboard to die a slow, painful death.

With the humans dispatched, Bucky searched their cabin. He did not like what he found. A cooler containing shark fins, and more guns and knives.

And another cooler contained gold coins, the exact ones that Bucky had found on the reef.

These humans were poachers, and there were still more of them out there.

Bucky gathered all the guns and knives he could find into a small net bag, secured it and took it with him. He had to reduce the risk of these threats to Steve and the humans he liked.

Bucky went back up to the deck and jumped over the side, diving into the water.

The sharks were making short work of the poachers' bodies, and Bucky couldn't sense any other humans in the immediate area.

He spread his arms out and let the ripple of change take over his body; he had to swim fast, and he was stronger with his tail.

Transformed, Bucky beat his tail and swam back to where he'd left Wanda and Pietro, pulling his bag of human weapons along with him.

He couldn't have been gone that long, but by the time he swam around the island and to the beach where he'd left then, he knew that Wanda and Pietro weren't there.

Bucky felt a stab of worry and swam out of the shallows, following his instinct.

They were in the water, he could feel it. He'd have to hide his bag of guns, and go search for them.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Wanda was so excited. They'd gotten bored of waiting for Bucky to come back, so had taken the boat out to the reef just offshore to investigate.

Sure enough, once they were in the water with their diving gear on, Wanda spotted gold glinting in the light.

There was literal treasure caught in bits and pieces all along the craggy reef. The colorful fish darting about had no idea they were living on a gold mine.

Wanda tapped her brother's arm, and pointed to the reef.

They swam down to get a closer look. At first glance it might have been easy to overlook the glint of gold next to the coral, but Wanda knew what she was looking for.

She opened up her net bag, and started picking out coins from the reef and plants. Pietro did the same.

Wanda was so focused on her task that she didn't notice the other divers approach until they were right on top of them.

She started in alarm, trying to maneuvre back without getting caught on the sharp outcroppings. The divers, two men, closed in on her brother first.

Wanda screamed into her rebreather, but Pietro couldn't hear. She watched in horror as the men grabbed him and cut the line to his oxygen with a knife.

Pietro struggled, cut off from his air.

Then the men came at her, and Wanda screamed again, trying to swim backwards. She was too slow, they were going to get her.

A dark shape shot in, latching onto one of the men.

It was Bucky, with no more than a basic snorkel in his mouth. He ripped the mask and rebreather from one man, then the other.

The bigger of the divers struggled, and Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled it back. Bubbles filled the water as the man screamed.

Wanda dropped her bag of gold and swam away from them.

She had to get to Pietro.

Wanda pushed through the water, but Pietro was already rushing to the surface. Wanda shouted, her voice making vibrations in the water but it was no use. Pietro couldn't hear her, and he was swimming up to the surface way too fast.

He was too far away, and Wanda had no choice but to pause half way up, to give her body the chance to adjust to the pressure or risk decompression sickness.

She hadn't reached her brother in time to stop his ascent, and she burst into tears.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve and Sam guided the Scarab into the shallows at Santa Inéz, following the rescue boat's tracker.

"Look, there!" Sam pointed, spotting the dinghy floating close to a rock.

There was no one aboard.

Steve steered their boat in carefully, cutting the engine as they approached.

He hoped that Bucky was with Wanda and Pietro. But what the hell were they doing, going on a reckless dive like this, and with County Lifeguard property?

"Can you see them?" Steve asked, coming to the side to look.

"No," Sam said. "Looks like they went swimming, there's clothes here so they must be in wetsuits."

Steve cursed under his breath, and turned around to scan the water.

Their boat drifted on the choppy waves.

"I can't believe they just tied up the rescue boat to a damn rock," Sam muttered, using the long hook to pull the dinghy close. "It's not secure at all, could've just drifted away on the current."

"They're in a heap of trouble when they resurface," Steve confirmed. "After we establish that they're safe.

"You wanna dive after them, or wait it out?"

Steve sighed in frustration. He stared at the water, willing someone to break the surface. "I don't want to be here doing nothing. I can dive, while you wait here in case they come back."

"Roger that."

Just as Steve was about to give up scanning the water, a head broke the surface in the distance.

"Sam," he said, pointing. "There's someone. Looks like they're in trouble."

"Shit." Sam hastily finished tying the dinghy to their boat, giving Steve the thumbs up to go.

Steve gunned the engine, steering them over with care.

"I'll go in," Sam told him, already pulling off his shoes and shirt. He picked up a red floatie and secured the strap around himself.

Steve cut the engine as they reached the diver floundering near the surface.

It was Pietro, and he was grimacing in pain.

Sam dived smoothly into the water, coming up and getting Pietro onto his back with the floatie at his chest.

"I got you, hang on." Sam swam them over to the Scarab, and Steve helped to lift Pietro aboard, with Sam climbing in after.

"Where's Wanda and Bucky?" Steve asked, laying Pietro down.

But it was clear Pietro was in pain and struggling to breathe. He couldn't answer.

"Shit," Sam said, wiping water from his face. "The bends? He must've come up too fast."

"Sure looks that way," Steve said. He checked Pietro's pulse and airways, but he knew they'd have to rush him back to base and start the recompression process.

"He needs to get in the tank," Steve said, standing and picking up the radio. "KMF two-nine-five, Scarab One to Hive. Do you copy? Over."

"Ten-one, Scarab," Coulson's voice cracked over the radio. "What's your twenty?"

"Coulson," Steve said, "we're just off Santa Inéz looking for our divers. One needs the recompression tank, stat. Can you confirm it's not in use? Over."

Waiting for an answer was tense. The only other recompression tank was out at the coastguard's base, even further way.

"Ten-two, Scarab," Coulson replied. "Tank is empty. Repeat, tank is empty. We'll set it up for you. Do you need air rescue? Over."

"How soon can they get here?" Steve asked.

Pietro was looking pale, and every second counted.

Sam was scanning the nearby water for anyone else.

"Ten-three, Scarab. Air rescue is south by south-west, they could be with you in under twenty. What's your call? Over."

Steve looked at Sam, who shook his head.

"I could get him back to base in less than that," Sam said.

Steve nodded. "You take the Scarab, it's faster. I'll wait here for back-up. Hopefully Wanda and Bucky didn't come up as fast, they must be underwater still."

"Got it." Sam set about untying the dinghy from the boat.

"Coulson," Steve said into the radio, "Sam will bring in diver with Scarab. Prepare the tank. I'll stay here for the other divers, I need immediate back-up. South-east of off Santa Inéz. Over."

"Ten-four, Lieutenant," Coulson replied. "Back-up on its way. Over."

"Ten-four. Over and out." Steve replaced the radio, then hurriedly climbed over the side and into the dinghy.

"Steve, be careful," Sam told him.

"I will, Sam. Get him back to base."

"On it." Sam went to steer the boat, and Steve pushed his dinghy away from its side.

"Don't wait, go!" he called.

Sam nodded and started the engine.

Steve let the dinghy drift on the water, bobbing in the waves from the Scarab as it took off, gaining speed when it got further away.

Steve took a deep breath and scanned the water again. If Pietro had come up around here, Bucky and Wanda could be close by.

The water was pretty clear, but it was still difficult to see down past a few feet.

Steve prayed that they were all right.

"Come on, come on," Steve murmured.

Nerves threatened to take over his rational thinking. He had to keep telling himself that Bucky was safe in the water, and hopefully he was with Wanda looking after her.

Just as Steve went to grab a rebreather and mask, two heads broke the surface.

"Thank God," he uttered, setting down the equipment. "Bucky! Are you guys all right?"

Bucky spat out a snorkel, and gave Steve a worried look. He held Wanda up as she pulled off her mask and rebreather.

"Where is he?" she sobbed, looking around. "Where's Pietro?"

"Sam's taken him back to base," Steve said, leaning over the side. "Come on, let's get you in the boat."

Bucky moved Wanda to the boat as she started crying again. "It's all my fault," she sobbed.

Steve reached down for her, and Bucky helped lift her up.

They got Wanda safely into the boat, where she sat sobbing into her hands. Steve turned to offer Bucky a hand up, only to see him rise up quietly on a wave and casually step into the boat.

Steve blinked. Bucky seemed perfectly fine. "Uh... okay then. Buck, what happened?"

"Bad people," Bucky said lowly. "Cut Pietro's air."

"What?" Steve gaped. "What people? Where are they?"

Bucky looked over to the island, staring at a particular spot in the shallows.

"There."

Steve looked too, but he couldn't see anyone. "Where? I don't--"

Two divers broke the surface, hurrying to shed their gear and get out of the water. One was limping badly.

"There they are. Who are they?"

"Poachers," Bucky said, looking Steve in the eyes. "I go. You wait here."

"Bucky, wait!" Steve reached for him, grabbed his arm. "I've called for back-up."

Bucky turned to him, a deep frown on his face. "I can get them _now_."

"No," Steve hissed, holding onto Bucky so he wouldn't dive off the boat. "Wait here until back-up arrives."

Bucky huffed, shrugging out of Steve's grip. "I can fight them," he said lowly. "They will pay."

"Bucky, _no_ ," Steve insisted. "Not without me."

"You'll slow me down."

"Slow you down?" Steve was incredulous. "Bucky, I was a captain in Special Ops. I know how to handle myself."

The look Bucky gave him seemed to say otherwise.

"You're a man," he stated, as if that were his entire argument.

"I'm a _specially trained_ man," Steve told him. "And if you think I'm letting you go off after poachers on your own–"

"Yes, Steve, on my own!"

" _No_ , Bucky!"

"Guys," Wanda broke in, "they have a gun..."

Steve looked back at the beach, where the two poachers were dragging themselves ashore. A third man was there, aiming a handheld automatic right at them.

"Get–"

 _Down_ , Steve tried to say, as Bucky reacted first and stamped on the edge of the boat, causing it to rear up out of the water. Steve and Wanda dropped down into the water below.

Bullets embedded in the boat as it shielded them, Bucky holding it upright like a windsurfer. Wanda screamed, gurgling as a wave splashed over her face. Steve held onto the rim of the boat and used his other hand to haul her up.

"Get the floatie," he told her.

She gasped, and scrambled for something to hold onto until Steve helped her secure the red floatie around her shoulders, and hold onto it.

"It's okay," he said, even as he heard the _fwipt_ sound of another bullet hit the boat. Bucky was still holding it on its side in the water, and Steve looked up at him in awe.

He'd just saved them all from being shot.

"They won't hang around long shooting at us," Steve said, sputtering a little as salt water splashed over his face.

Bucky shook his head, and when a long tense moment passed with no more shots fired, he cautiously peered around the boat.

"They're running," he said, before letting go of the boat so it splashed back down, and he dropped into the water himself.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted. "Wait!"

Bucky's head resurfaced and he looked at Steve. "Let me go. I can get them."

"I'm coming with you." Steve stared back at him, unwilling to take no for an answer. "I can help."

Bucky seemed to sag, and looked at him worriedly. "But, Steve–"

"The longer we debate this, the more chance they have of getting away. Bucky, let me help."

With a groan, Bucky offered his hand.

Steve took it, and looked to Wanda who was huddled in at the lip of the boat. "Stay here. The boat may not be watertight now, but you have the floatie, and back-up will be here soon. Okay?"

She nodded shakily. "I'm fine. Be careful?"

"We will," Steve promised, then turned back to Bucky. "Right, let's–"

He watched in muted shock as Bucky wound a line of rope to Steve's hand, securing him to the boat with an expert knot.

" _Stay_ ," Bucky said firmly, then dived underwater and disappeared from view.

Steve gaped after him, then began to pull at the knot to try free himself. "Dammit, Bucky!"

~ ~ ~

Once ashore, Bucky hurried out of the surf and crept along the beach.

The men had left track marks in the sand where they'd dragged the one who couldn't walk. Bucky had broken his leg in the water, and he must've broken the other's arm.

He should've just killed them then, but Wanda had been right there, and he'd been more worried about getting her to safety.

Bucky followed the tracks around the beach, past large rocks. He hid behind one rock and peered around it, spotting the opening to a cave hidden in the rock-face.

Bucky cursed inwardly.

So, this was the cave, and these men were the threats.

One of them had a gun, he knew that for a fact. Bucky would have to take them all down before Steve tried to intervene. He knew that rope would only hold him for so long.

Bucky closed his eyes and listened.

The only sounds were the waves and the gulls, so Bucky had to use his other senses to try locate the men.

He tried to feel the presence of them, but nothing.

He opened his eyes, glaring ahead. It was no use, they were too deep in the cave. He'd have to get closer.

Bucky took a steady breath, then moved forward. He crept closer to the mouth of the cave, on his guard.

No sign of the humans.

Bucky thought he should've brought the guns he'd collected earlier, not hidden them on the ocean floor. But it was too late now.

The cave was dark. Bucky couldn't see much as he peered inside, but he couldn't hear or feel anyone either.

He took the risk and stepped in. Its floor was sandy at first, then became rocky; hard to balance on and hurt his feet to walk.

Bucky followed the passageway as it grew narrower. He bent to pick up loose rocks, a couple of sharp and pointed ones he could throw if needed.

This far from the water he needed any weapon he could get.

Bucky sensed human anger as he went deeper into the cave. He had to be getting close.

The passageway was dark and dry; it hadn't been underwater for years. But up ahead, Bucky sensed water. An underground pool, a connection to the ocean.

And voices near the water; hissing under their breath, angry and in pain. Bucky flared his nostrils, scenting the air.

He carefully rounded another corner, and discovered the passage broke off into a fork. Bucky looked one way, then the other, both in darkness. The voices seemed closer to the left, and so did the water. Bucky reached out to touch the rock in front of him, feeling for anything that would tell him what the layout was.

The water was directly ahead and below him, its power filling the cave. Bucky could trace the layout from both passages, and realised they both led to the same cavern. It was a circle, probably formed by the tide long ago.

Bucky stepped back and moved off to the right, treading carefully.

The echoes of hushed voices grew louder.

"It hurts!" a man bit out.

"So does my fucking arm," another man replied. "Shut the fuck up, all right? Brock's getting the boat and then we'll be out of here."

Bucky crept up behind some rocks, peering into the cavern. Light filtered down from gaps in the roof of the cave, and from a lamp one of the humans had. The one with the broken arm was trying to haul a crate, something heavy from the looks of it.

Was that more of the coins, Bucky wondered. This was why these humans had been so territorial?

Bucky felt a pull of a presence somewhere behind him, and he ducked back down by the rocks.

 _Steve_.

Bucky frantically looked around, but didn't see him yet.

Steve was here in the cave.

 _No, no, no_. This was not good.

Bucky tried to send out his feelings to Steve; _go back! Go back!_

But it was no use. Either Steve didn't understand him, or it just called Steve right to him. The big blond human came out of the passageway, feeling his way through the dark.

Bucky quickly tugged him down behind his rock cover.

"Steve," he whispered, "I told you to _stay_."

"I wasn't going to leave you," Steve whispered back, a deep frown set in place. "And I can't believe you tied me to the boat, you jerk."

Bucky sighed. "The humans are there." He indicated past the rocks. "They are injured. The other one is gone."

Steve nodded. "Three total?"

"Yes."

"Right." Steve peered through a gap in the rocks, taking in the scene. "I'll go around the perimeter, come up behind them."

"No," Bucky hissed back. "You stay here, I will go."

"Bucky, I used to do ops like these–"

"I don't care, Steve!" Bucky held onto his arm, which was a mistake as he suddenly felt all the worry, frustration and adrenaline flow into him from Steve.

Bucky let go and shook his head. "You're distracting me."

" _I'm_ distracting _you?_ " Steve scoffed. "Bucky, we can easily do this together. I'm not letting you do it alone."

Bucky felt like bashing his head against the rock. Steve wouldn't let up. "Okay," he relented. "You–"

The slow motion flash of a gun went off in his mind's eye, and Bucky breathed out in a gasp.

_Steve!_

He shoved Steve aside a split second before the bang echoed in the cave. The bullet grazed over Bucky's outstretched arm, ripped over his skin. He cried out in pain, but he kept pushing at Steve, moving him out of the way.

"Bucky!" Steve rolled on the floor, diving behind a rock as Bucky followed him.

A quick glance up and he saw their assailant, a stocky human with a twisted grimace, standing in the second passageway. He must've crept up behind them, and Bucky hadn't noticed.

The human fired again, bullet hitting the rock close to Bucky's head. Bucky reeled back his uninjured arm and hurled a sharp rock. His aim was better, and it hit the human right in his forehead.

"Argh!" he cried out, staggering. "Sonnuva–"

"Brock!" The other humans called, and more shots fired in the cave, pinging off the rocks around them.

Bucky tried to shield Steve, and Steve pulled them down behind a rock.

"Don't shoot at me, you morons!" the one called Brock shouted out.

"Bucky," Steve said above the noise, "we gotta move!"

Bucky agreed, but where to? They were boxed in. If they made a run for the nearest passageway, they'd need cover, and all Bucky could do was throw another rock against three sets of guns.

He looked around in panic, trying to see a way out.

They were trapped.

"Steve, I'll distract them, you can run."

"No, I'm not leaving you!"

The gunshots were getting closer, and they had to shuffle around their rock shelter carefully.

Bucky's arm was bleeding, but it was only a flesh wound. He had to get Steve out safely.

"Come outta there!" The human shouted at them. "I'll gut you with my fishing knife, you assholes!"

Bullets came from each side of the rock they sheltered behind, and Bucky knew it was only a matter of seconds before they'd be shot.

He'd have to use the water.

"Steve?" He reached for Steve's hand, clasped it tight. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Steve said, hesitant. He searched Bucky's eyes, and held on tight to his hand. "You're not gonna do anything stupid, are you?"

Bucky smiled at him. "I will protect you."

He placed his other hand on the ground, digging his fingers between the rocks. Bucky closed his eyes and searched for the water, called to it.

The water rumbled in reply, so close.

Bucky breathed out in relief as the water answered, gave itself over to his will.

A tremor rippled through the floor, and Bucky opened his eyes just as the human rounded the rock, gun pointed at them.

"There you are," he sneered, about to pull the trigger.

"Shit! Brock!" One of the men screamed. "The water–"

Brock glanced to the side, eyes going wide as he saw the water rise out of the pool. He turned and tried to run, but Bucky knew he wouldn't make it.

Bucky held onto Steve, pulled him close and covered his mouth with his own.

Then the water broke over them all, flooding the cave.

 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve didn't know what happened. One second he thought he was about to be shot, or worse, that Bucky was. Then he saw with his own eyes, a tidal wave of water sweep through the cave.

Steve didn't want to drown, and he panicked. But Bucky held onto him, kissed him and blew air into his lungs. Steve scrunched his eyes shut and held on to him.

The water rocked them off the ground, swallowed them up and closed in heavily. Steve tried not to struggle, and he clung to Bucky, feeling Bucky's skin ripple under his hands as it turned scaly.

The force of the water should've battered them against the walls of the cave, but Bucky pulled Steve safely through the water. Steve had to hold his breath and let Bucky pull him along.

They seemed to shoot through the water so fast, and then they were out of the cave in open water. It was bright again, as the last rays of the setting sun visible on the surface.

In panic, Steve tried to swim up in a desperate bid to breathe. Strong hands pulled him back down, saved him from rushing too quickly to the surface.

Bucky held Steve close, cupped his jaw and secured his lips to Steve's. He breathed into him, and Steve took the air in relief.

He could breathe.

Steve opened his eyes, calm now, and looked at Bucky, at the shiny-scaled merman in front of him.

They were alive. Bucky had saved him again. Steve reached for him, pulled Bucky in for another kiss.

Steve hadn't ever kissed anyone underwater, but with Bucky it just came naturally.  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gorgeous art commission was done by Hopeless-Geek, [check it out on tumblr](https://hopelessartgeek.tumblr.com/post/167954854996/this-is-a-commissions-for-jro616-for-their-fic) too! 
> 
>  
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Warnings for chapter: 
> 
> Canon typical action and violence; pirates/Hydra henchmen types, Bucky beats the crap out of them. Mentions of fishing and killing sharks, threats of gunshots and guns, a mild glancing wound from a bullet on Bucky's arm. A diving mishap with Pietro, and then needing a recompression tank session.
> 
> But all your faves are okay!
> 
> ~ ~ ~


	8. Safe At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER! FIC COMPLETE!

 

 

They broke the surface of the water, Bucky holding Steve's arm to steady him.

A chopper was approaching, its blades beating a pulse through the air.

Steve looked to Bucky, in his shiny, beautiful merman form. "Buck, can you, er, you know, look normal again? It's better if they don't see you like this."

Bucky nodded, and Steve watched as Bucky's scales shimmered in the dwindling sunlight before disappearing completely, his pale human skin in place. Steve looked down in the water, saw the silhouette of Bucky's tail beneath them change into two legs.

"Okay... Let's get to the boat." Steve made to swim forward, but Bucky pointed off to the right.

"There."

Steve looked, saw the dinghy bobbing in the water. "Oh, right. Let's go."

They both swam in that direction, and reaching the boat Steve was relieved to find Wanda sitting inside it, safe and sound.

"You're back!" She jumped up, helped Steve into the boat. "Thank God! There was this huge wave and it washed right into that island."

Bucky climbed aboard after Steve, looking up at the chopper warily.

Steve picked up the red floatie to wave it at them. It was Air Rescue, which meant that a boat had to be on its way.

"What happened to those guys?" Wanda asked, then saw Bucky's arm. "You're hurt!"

Steve looked at Bucky's arm too, saw the red mark across his bicep. "Bucky, are you okay?"

Bucky nodded, barely glancing at the cut. "It's stopped bleeding."

Steve was relieved. "Those assholes shot at us," he told Wanda. "I thought... Well, anyway. Check the water, see if you can spot them in it."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, which Steve didn't comment on in front of Wanda. Bad guys or not, Steve was still going to look for survivors. And Wanda was already busy checking the water.

"I can't see anyone, but look!" She pointed to the surface, and when Steve leaned over to look, he saw the glinting reflection of gold coins as they cascaded along the current.

"That's what those guys were after, then," he said. "I'll notify Coastguard."

"There's no one else out there," Wanda sighed, and sat back down. "Can we go see my brother now?"

"I'll get a boat to take you in," Steve said. "Here comes one now."

Two bright yellow Scarabs were approaching fast. Steve waved his arms to signal them.

The chopper did a sweep overhead, no doubt looking for more people on the water. The Scarabs slowed down, the first one steered by Clint, with T'Challa and Natasha inside, the second boat by Hope and Scott.

"Hey!" Steve waved as Clint cut the engine and eased the boat in close.

"Steve!" he called. "You guys alright?"

"We're all okay!" Steve called back.

Natasha tossed him a rope, and Steve used it to tug the dinghy up alongside the Scarab.

"Anyone else out there?" T'Challa asked, leaning over the side of the boat.

Steve helped Wanda up first, with T'Challa and Natasha carefully pulling her aboard.

"Three poachers," Steve told them. "They were in a cave on the island when a wave hit. Didn't see them after that. They were armed too, and shot at us."

"They're the ones who attacked me and Pietro," Wanda said.

"I'll radio the chopper," T'Challa said, "see if they can spot these creeps."

"How's my brother?" Wanda asked, tearful.

"He's at base in the recompression tank," Natasha said gently. "Sam and Janet are with him. We can take you there now."

"You guys take Wanda in," Steve said, "I'll stay on the other Scarab in case they need help."

"Steve, you should get checked out too," Clint said. "Were you in the water? And Bucky? Who has... lost his clothes again, I see."

"Uh... yeah," Steve fudged.

He'd given Bucky his shirt to wrap around his waist, which was better than nothing.

"Steve, I agree with Clint," T'Challa said. "The three of you need to follow procedure and get the all clear before engage in more operations out on the water."

Steve had to relent. "Okay, you're right. The Coastguard will want to pick this up anyway. The water's full of gold, that's what those poachers must've been after all along."

"Say what?" Clint leaned over the side of the boat, peering into the water. "Holy shit! He's right!"

T'Challa hummed. "Guess I'll radio that too. This whole area will have to be searched if we don't find their bodies."

"Let's get started then," Natasha prompted. She began unwrapping emergency blankets and handing them out. "You three need to get into warm clothes, like _now_."

Clint leaned on the side of the boat and shot a wink at Bucky. "Or, y'know, any clothes will do. No more skinny dipping."

Bucky merely smiled back, and Steve sighed. He accepted a blanket from Natasha and hastily wrapped it around Bucky.

"Let's head back to shore."

~ ~ ~

Clint took them back to base, while Natasha and T'Challa stayed with Scott and Hope to aid in the search.

Steve wasn't sure what they would find; surely those poachers would've been washed out to sea and drowned, or were still in that cave underwater.

He didn't want to think about it, or about how close he'd come to being shot and killed today.

Dr Van Dyne checked them over initially as they got into headquarters. She was satisfied they hadn't taken in any water after listening to them breathe.

Steve hadn't known what to expect when she'd put her stethoscope to Bucky's chest, but turned out he must've had a heartbeat that passed as human.

Steve got them both changed into his spare clothes from the locker room, and with Wanda they went down to the back-room that housed the recompression chamber.

Sam greeted them eagerly. "Man, am I glad to see you in one piece," he said, clasping Steve's hand. "All of you."

"How's he doing?" Steve asked.

"Good." Sam put a hand on Wanda's shoulder as she burst into tears, steering her to the little window on the tank. "He's awake. Go on and wave hello. He'll be pretty bored in there for another hour or so."

"Oh, thank God." Wanda pressed up against the glass and smiled at her brother.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "So, Dr Van Dyne thinks he'll make a full recovery?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Lucky he wasn't any deeper underwater, or it could've been a lot worse."

"Very lucky," Steve agreed.

They'd all been lucky today.

He looked to Bucky and smiled. "I better go up top and see what's happening on the radio. You coming with me?"

Bucky nodded, slipping his hand into Steve's.

Clint strolled in, carrying a tray of some take-out milkshakes. "Protein," he announced, passing them out one by one. "Thought you all could use some."

"Thanks, man," Sam thanked him.

"Wanda, drink this." Clint made her take one. "And let's drink it in front of Pietro's window so he'll feel jealous and remember never to do anything this dumb ever again."

Steve huffed a laugh. "I'm going up top. I'll see you all shortly."

He tugged Bucky along with him, who was happily slurping on his milkshake.

When they were out in the hall, Steve stopped and faced Bucky, searching his eyes.

Bucky seemed to sense he wanted to say something and stopped sucking on his drink. He blinked blue-gray eyes at Steve and waited.

Steve drew in a breath. "Bucky, I... I'm sorry if I distracted you, back during all that. I was just... I was scared I'd lose you. I couldn't let you go alone."

Bucky held onto Steve's hand, squeezed gently. "I know. I'm sorry too."

Steve smiled. "Maybe we could both work on trusting each other a little more."

Bucky's eyebrow quirked. "Steve, you're still a man. I'm stronger than you are."

"Okay, okay," Steve conceded with a chuckle. "I get it. And we still have a lot to learn about each other too."

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. "Humans are complicated."

"Yes," Steve laughed at that. "I agree."

~

Back in the control room, Carol was at the comms desk with Coulson talking to the Coastguard on the radio.

Most guards had finished their day shift now, but some were evidently hanging around to hear what was happening.

"Steve!" Carol got up as they approached. "Glad you're back safe. You sure had a busy run of it these last two days."

Steve smiled wryly. "That's an understatement. What's the situation now?"

"Coastguard is searching the water," Carol said, leaning back on the desk. "Aside from all this gold floating around, no sign of any people yet. Air Rescue found a ghost ship."

"A what?"

"A small yacht on the other side of the island, and it was empty," Carol explained. "No one on board. Like they'd just vanished."

"Uh..." Steve schooled his features and definitely did not side-eye Bucky. "I see. Maybe that was the boat the divers had been using? They were underwater when we all came across them, and one more was back on the island."

"It does seem likely," Carol said. "Coastguard searched the boat anyway, found plenty that would've brought them up on criminal charges. Stolen goods, fake passports. Poached shark fins."

"Shit," Steve muttered. "Hopefully they're still alive so County can put them away."

Carol made a face like she didn't hold out much hope for finding them, and Coulson shrugged like he shared that sentiment.

"Unless they had diving equipment or another boat to get away," he said, "they're long gone on that ocean current."

"You're probably right," Steve said quietly.

The radio crackled with another report, and Carol turned back to it to listen, as did Phil.

Steve glanced at Bucky, who was slurping up the last of his milkshake and blinking innocently at Steve.

Steve raised his eyebrows in question, and Bucky merely raised a shoulder in answer.

Steve nodded in understanding. He figured he'd need to have a long talk with Bucky about law and order, and how they handled criminals here on land, if Bucky was planning on sticking around.

A thought occurred to Steve, and when there was a lull in radio chatter, he said, "Hey, has anyone told Coastguard about who found this gold? Because Bucky found it, the law of finds should apply, right?"

Carol shrugged. "Depends where it came from. If it's not on a named ship from the Abandoned Shipwrecked Act, then I'd say whoever finds it keeps it."

"Seems you got a good chance for a claim," Coulson agreed. "You should notify Coastguard."

"I can do one better..." Steve turned a knowing smile to Bucky. "Fancy going to collect your find, Buck? We can use the Scarab."

Bucky nodded. "Now?"

"No time like the present," Steve said. "And we got the all clear from the doc."

"Okay."

Steve led him out of the control room with a wave to his colleagues. They headed back onto the beach, where the rescue boats were pulled up temporarily onto the sand.

Bucky helped him to push the boat back into the water.

"Steve?" he asked. "The gold... you want it too?"

Steve shook his head, and clambered into the boat. "Everyone needs money, Buck. Gold is valuable, yes." He offered Bucky a hand up, pulling him into the boat. "Living is expensive. There's a rule that any shipwreck that's been written off by the government, and more than three miles offshore, that if you find anything of value you can then claim it. In lieu of a getting a job... Well, this could really help you out. If you want to stay here on land, that is."

"I see." Bucky frowned in thought, set his hands on his hips as Steve started the engine. "Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck?"

"More coins are better?"

"What do you mean?" Steve steered the boat carefully backwards into the shallows. The beach was empty now, and he had plenty of room to turn the boat around.

"I know where the ship is," Bucky said, as Steve glanced at him in surprise.

"You... _what?_ "

"There's more," Bucky told him. "Underwater. Only some of the coins washed ashore, the rest are in the ship."

"Oh." Steve looked out to sea. "Can you take me there?"

"Yes." Bucky pointed out to sea. "That way."

"Then let's go claim your treasure!"

~ ~ ~

It was nearly nine PM by the time Pietro was allowed out of the recompression tank, and Dr Van Dyne insisted on taking him down to the hospital for overnight observation.

She seemed confident he would be okay, and Sam was relieved.

Wanda and Clint went with them to the hospital, and finally Sam was able to get his bag and think about going home.

He texted Steve, _Did_ _you_ _take the jeep yet?_

Before Sam had left the locker room, Steve had replied.

_We're in the lot! Want a ride home?_

Sam replied in the affirmative, and headed out through the garage.

Across the now-empty lot, he saw Steve and Bucky loading what looked like heavy gym bags into the trunk.

"Hey," Sam said as he approached. He barely stifled a yawn. "Man, I need food, a beer, and then an early night."

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "You've earned it. Pizza?"

"Yeah, I'm in." Sam looked between Steve and Bucky, wondering why they were grinning. "What y'all looking smug about? What you got in the trunk?"

"Wanna take a look?" Steve popped the trunk open again, and slowly unzipped one of the bags to reveal gold.

Lots of it.

"Shit," Sam muttered, staring at the coins. "This from those poachers?"

Steve shook his head, and zipped the bag back up. "Nope! Bucky found the actual shipwreck where it all came from. This isn't even half of what's there."

"You did a dive in the dark?" Sam gave him a look. Steve knew that shit was dangerous out in the ocean.

"Uh. Just a quick one." Steve cleared his throat. "Before the authorities claim everything as theirs anyway. I'm going to do some research, see where this wreck came from."

He shut the trunk, and Sam hummed thoughtfully. "If it was originally stolen gold, it would be good to return it," he said.

"It would," Steve agreed. "Let's see what we can dig up, yeah?" He held out his hand.

"Hell, yeah." Sam clasped his hand and shook. "But pizza first."

Bucky echoed, "Pizza first."

~ ~ ~

The barbecue on Sunday afternoon was just what everyone needed.

Clint had offered to let them use his place, which had a bigger yard and a heated pool, so they'd gone round there after work, set up the outdoor grill and got some music going.

Clint was showing a fascinated Bucky how to grill the lobsters he'd brought, so that kept him occupied while Steve set out burgers, side salads, and beers in a cooler. Everyone else mingled by the food or lounged by the pool.

Pietro had been given a clean bill of health, but had been told to take it easy. Wanda handed him over a plate of food, and sat beside him on a sun lounger.

Steve took them over a couple of beers.

"So what happens to all that treasure, Lieutenant?" Pietro asked.

Sam, sitting next to them, shook his head with a smile.

Steve smiled too. "Well, Coastguard is still hashing it out with County over the ownership of what they found floating in the water. Meanwhile," he grinned at Sam, "Bucky and I claimed the shipwreck, so, there's that."

Pietro and Wanda both groaned unhappily.

"All that trouble we went through," Pietro started.

"And we get nothing?" Wanda finished.

"Don't pout," Sam told them. "Steve hasn't finished."

"Right," Steve said. "As a matter of fact, after doing some research and speaking to a contact of mine who deals in antiques, we have a rough idea of what the items Bucky found are worth."

"Ironically," Sam put in, "other items like a plate and a cup from the ship are worth _way_ more than the coins are."

"We," Steve went on, "that is, Bucky, Sam and I, have decided we want to donate the items back to their country of origin. Which we're pretty sure is Mexico, and we're choosing a charity to do that with."

Sam nodded solemnly. "Damn right."

Wanda and Pietro gaped in disbelief.

"Seriously?" Wanda said.

"Yep." Steve almost laughed, but managed to keep a straight face. "Think of it as good karma. Besides, there's a ten percent finders' fee. We were gonna cut you two in, seeing as you almost had it."

"Ten percent?" Pietro sighed. "Ten percent of what?"

"A little over a million," Steve said, and watched with amusement as their jaws dropped.

"Seriously?" Wanda gasped. "How much is that?"

"It means you get twenty thousand dollars each," Sam said calmly. "Thereabouts."

"That's right." Steve smiled. "Bucky wanted you to have something."

"Man, I can't believe it," Pietro said. "This was worth almost dying for!"

Wanda shot him a look. "You're an idiot. And it could've been way more."

"Be thankful you got this much, _and_ your health," Sam pointed out.

"He's right," Steve said, turning to glance over where Bucky was at the barbecue pit. "Besides, it's a big ocean out there–"

Bucky saw him looking and waved, proudly holding up part of his cooked lobster on a fork.

Steve grinned back at him.

"–I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for."

  


~ ~ ~

  


_One month later_

  


Steve dropped the anchor overboard, watching it descend into the deep blue water before securing it.

The rental boat bobbed on the calm ocean waves. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, and the skies were clear.

Steve finished zipping up his wetsuit and looked to Bucky, who stood by the side of the boat naked, and waiting for him.

"All set?" Steve asked, stepping close.

Bucky held out his hand and smiled.

"Remember, not too far down," Steve reminded him. "My body won't take it."

Bucky shook his head. "Not far."

Holding hands, they stood at the edge of the boat by its diving platform. Bucky gazed off at the water.

Steve didn't disturb him, he knew what Bucky was looking for.

Or, listening for, perhaps.

This wasn't another of their treasure scavenging dives, this was something special. Something Steve had wanted to do all his life but had never managed it.

"There." Bucky pointed a short way off, just before the dark hump of a whale broke the surface, sending up a spray of air and water.

"Oh, wow," Steve murmured. "I'm... I'm a little nervous."

Bucky turned to him, winding his arms around Steve.

"Don't be nervous. I'm here."

"I know, Buck." Steve held him, tilted his face to press a kiss to Bucky's lips. "I love you."

Bucky smiled at that, hand cupping Steve's jaw. "I love you, Steve. Now, hold onto me."

Steve held on, and closed his eyes as Bucky kissed him again, this time breathing air into him.

Bucky stepped away from the ledge and Steve followed his lead. They dropped down like stones, the water closing in over their heads.

Steve breathed, let Bucky give him air. He didn't understand how it worked, all he knew was he was safe under the water with Bucky.

Steve opened his eyes as Bucky pulled back, smiling at him. He'd already transformed to his shiny scales and big blue tail undulating below, keeping them still in the current.

Bucky pointed ahead, and Steve looked to see the dark shape of the whale close by.

He let Bucky take his hand and pull him along, cutting through the water quickly with his strong tail. Bucky started emitting a series of clicks, just audible enough for Steve to hear. The whale up ahead seemed to turn on its side, coming around and swimming up to them.

Bucky held out his other hand, gesturing for Steve to do the same.

Steve held his breath in wonder, held out his hand and watched as the whale swam in close, brushing by their hands.

The whale must have understood Bucky, and maybe they were communicating and Steve couldn't hear. It didn't matter, he was ecstatic. He was swimming with a whale!

Bucky pulled Steve in, held him by his waist in the water and let him get up close to the whale's enormous flipper.

Steve stroked the flipper respectfully, like he was saying hello. The whale's large eye watched them, intelligent and peaceful.

Steve couldn't help a smile.

Bucky gently pulled him back through the water, giving the whale room to maneuvre. Steve could see more of it from further away, swimming gracefully despite its huge size.

They swam alongside the whale a little more as it drew in air from the surface to breathe.

Being so close to such a magnificent animal was truly humbling, and the added joy of being underwater without cumbersome diving equipment made it even better.

Eventually the whale took one last breath from the surface and went to dive.

Bucky pulled Steve back to the boat, giving him another kiss of air a few feet from the surface, allowing his body a chance to readjust to the pressure.

After Steve had gotten back on the boat, and Bucky had swum around a little more, catching himself a fish to eat, they sat on the diving ledge, feet in the water and ate the sandwiches Steve had brought along.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, lighting the sparse clouds in warm orange hues.

Bucky laid his head on Steve's shoulder and snugged into his side until Steve lifted an arm and held him.

"Are you sleepy?"

"No," Bucky murmured. "Have you got coffee?"

Steve laughed, and reached for the thermos. "Buck, I warned you that stuff gets addictive."

"Mmm," Bucky hummed as Steve poured him a small cup, and he sipped the warm liquid.

"This could've been my plan to keep you on land all along," Steve joked. "Get you hooked on coffee."

Bucky snorted lightly, clearly not agreeing with that sentiment. "I would stay with or without the coffee."

Steve looked at their feet in the water; safe, Bucky had insisted. Steve would never have done so in the open ocean otherwise.

Bucky's legs were still scaly, flashing with color in the sunlight.

"Do you miss it?" Steve asked softly. "The ocean? Do you miss living in it?"

Bucky was quiet a moment before answering, "Yes."

Steve looked up, concerned. Bucky gazed back at him, smiled warmly.

"But I would miss you more," he said.

"Oh..." Steve felt his face flush, and he grinned happily. "I'd miss you too."

"You can live in the water," Bucky said.

"Say what now?" He watched Bucky take the last sip of his coffee, hand the cup back to Steve since he was done with it. Steve smiled wryly. "What do you mean?"

"You can stay in the water with me," Bucky said, "you could live there."

"How do you know? Have you... tried it before?"

Bucky tilted his head. "No, but I have a feeling it would work. I can make you breathe under the water, if you spend more time with me, you would adapt."

Steve laughed nervously. "What, like grow a tail?"

Bucky shot him a smirk. "Maybe. Want to try?"

"Gee, Buck, let's... um, hold off on that for now, okay?" He put his arm around Bucky again, kissed his cheek.

"Maybe if I take early retirement," Steve murmured.

"You would like it," Bucky told him confidently.

"I'm sure I would. Are there more hot guys like you under there?"

Bucky pulled back to frown at Steve, clearly not picking up on the joke.

Steve had to smother a grin. "I'm kidding, relax. You know you're the only one for me, Buck."  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Listen to the [Baywatch end theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uINY84x7K2s) as sung by Zardu Hasselfrau himself.
> 
> And check out this gorgeous art of [beach boy Bucky](https://jro616.tumblr.com/post/168086107470/a-stunning-commission-from-kayaczek-of-beach-boy) commissioned from [Kayaczek](http://kayaczek.tumblr.com/tagged/commission-info)!
> 
> ~ ~ ~

**Author's Note:**

> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> Also here is a [rebloggable post of this fic on tumblr](https://jro616.tumblr.com/post/169975010115/making-a-splash).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The boy in the water](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157268) by [Ilyone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyone/pseuds/Ilyone)




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